#Maybe i should look up ways to write next?

[sunshine6ixty]

i think this is where i've landed with the whole gaiman thing.

some background, i was a gaiman girlie. i paid money to see him speak, i volunteered for a signing, i've taken pictures in front of the world's largest carousel; hugely formative, resonated on a level that nothing else i've encountered did, and so on and so on etcetera. (i got to say "mr gaiman i wouldn't be who i am today without your books" to him, which is a Different Flavored Memory now than it once was, i can tell you)

and like. though his books had a familiar and fond place in my life, i'd already gotten to a point of... nebulous disenchantment? not disgust or anything-- just that nature was taking its course, and i was drifting away. i started reading neil gaiman at age... what, thirteen? maybe eleven? and i read his work consistently for a while. i'm in my thirties now, and i haven't been keeping track, but i've read american gods once a year for at least the past five years. it was just... kinda time, in a way. he seemed like he'd said what he had to say, and was coasting in a perpetual victory lap, which i was fine with. i'd just... keep picking at the gaiman books again when i was bored.

and i remember thinking, around when i first noticed this distance i'd been feeling, that i was just... running dry. things felt stale and i didn't know where to look to change that.

and then this all happened.

and all of a sudden, my perception of this person has been wrenched into a completely new perspective. just, twisted sideways, seams popping, eyes bugging, can't-unbreak-the-action-figure wrenched. the spell is broken, in an ironically gaiman-esque way, and this mythic figure (~*nEIL GAIman*~) is revealed to be just a shitty, spoiled brat of a complete fucking monster.

i've read the article, i've heard the stories about how weird he was for doctor who, i've seen not-unreasonable allegations of plagarism floating around-- suffice it to say, he's just a shit of a dude. he's... not special. not really. he's a good writer who said one thing with his work, and lived another. who saw something that resonated, and put his name on it. who said something that we felt, and said he gave it to us.

and i realized, from this angle, that the reason i was feeling so dried out was likely because neil gaiman (some might say purposefully) took all the fucking air out of the room. like, nobody was neil gaiman, right, so what right could you have to try to do a neil gaiman? he was the only gaiman. the apex of gaiman. peak gaiman. the mystical, profound, monotheistic god of dark poetic storytelling.

but like. he wasn't. it turns out, he was just a shitty dude. magic or no, he was mostly just entitled.

and i think that sort of broke something in me. if the curtain was pulled back and there was just a weird, shitty little dude in there, then what the fuck have i been doing? in an... i-should-probably-talk-to-a-therapist-about-this sort of way, neil gaiman kept me from writing! like-- i was a kid who took pictures of graves at age five, who made up a story about a child bricked up in the school belltower who's ghost still wandered the halls (and published it in the school newspaper, next to what flavor milk does mrs k's 5th grade class prefer), who believed there was a door to another world beneath their neighbor's ornamental bush, who mapped the lost city (/junk dump) in the open space drainage ditch! this is the stuff i did before i knew gaiman! i liked gaiman because i was into this stuff already, and then after a while, without me really noticing it, neil gaiman became this stuff. the only source of it. the only rightful creator of a gaiman.

and like... if you know you can't do it like neil gaiman, because he's him and you're not, you kind of start despairing before you even begin, right?

fuck that.

i think, what i can take away from the whole debacle is this: it's time for all of us who have ever felt like this to do a gaiman.

... by which i mean, make our art. not the other stuff.

you have every right to be as audacious as neil gaiman with your art. take it as seriously, tell everyone it's as important. put that thing down on paper; the thing you otherwise wouldn't.

look, chances are, you're actually a better person than neil gaiman. he sucks. he was a skilled craftsman, but skill can be learned. what he did was practice and talk himself up. and there is nothing magical about neil gaiman that hasn't also run beneath our fingertips.

there was never anything unique about ~*neiLGAiman*~. not really. neil just made him up to be the special-est most darkest and dreamiest boy there ever was, and it was a fucking lie, and its insidious the degree to which it ate an entire genre.

because, honestly? i want to read more shit like neil gaiman! i've been hungry for more of what he said was solely his for so fucking long! i want to see what weird, fever-dream stories we've all been sitting on because he ate the entire ecosystem! i want to read all of the beautiful, terrible, fucked-up magical things from everyone that never saw the light of day because neil was too busy basking in it!

and now that the mask is off, it's fucking time. i'm going to take my shit back, neil. fuck you.

in a weird, fucked-up way, what a relief.

[yutarot]

cozy. n.jm

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ childhood bff!jaemin, snowboarding au, fwb, sfw

synopsis. you and jaemin have been inseparable since you were children. when you and a few of your friends go on your annual mountain ski trip, the air grows tense when they find out that you and jaemin have been sleeping together. so what happens when an overnight snowstorm extends your trip, bringing a sudden change of plans and a very unlikely guest to your vacation: jaemins crush. will your friendship survive within the cold presence of snow or will it melt away once the sun rises.

wc: 6.8k

warnings. implied sex, suggestive, language, jaemin sucks, miscommunication (sorry), yn is wayy too nice in this

notes — ty to the anon who gave me this idea hehe i immeeediately thought of jaemin so i had to write it. i hope u enjoy this it was fun to write (also ended up being way longer than i expected butttt oh well)

the trip started 4 days ago. 

you always loved your winter ski trips. you loved the way the snow glistened under the sun, illuminating the sky line in a crisp peach orange. you loved the way you could become carefree, no worries of college or having to pick up extra shifts at the cafe. it was always perfect, a spirited culmination of a frosty vacation. 

like usual, you unpacked at lightning speed, occupying the room directly between jaemin and jisung and opposite chenle. as kids, you and mark used to argue over who got the room that you stay in, it being the only room in the cabin with a double bed, but after many years of relentless fighting, you always managed to beat him.

the five of you have been friends since before you could remember, constant pranks and silliness as kids soon became reliability and comfort as you grow into your late teens. but now that you all attend college together, you’re closer than ever.

admittedly, you’ve always been closer to jaemin than the rest, your childhood homes being next to each other, serving as a reason for you to play out in the street each evening after school. even as you entered high school and eventually college, you stayed close, despite jaemin’s tendencies to sleep around with girls and eventually ghost them soon after.

you would be mad at jaemin’s exploits, but you can’t exactly say that being mad at someone’s past actions is entirely justifiable, especially since his playboy behaviour has recently become less frequent.

the air in the cabin is surprisingly warm, a crisp layer of frost encasing the windows and blocking the breeze of snow as it falls upon the mountain that the cabin rests between. the sky, once blue, is now an iridescent hue of orange, reflecting off the snow on the ground and pulsing through the window and onto the wooden walls around you, making them glow. it is an utterly beautiful place, and you thank chenle’s parents for letting you stay here each winter unsupervised.

as you walk through the walkway and into the main room, you spot chenle upon the sofa, browsing the old vintage tv for any channels that don’t bore him profusely. mark and jaemin are playing a game of chess on the floor, resting themselves upon fluffy white cushions and muttering snarky comments to each other under their breaths. noticing your presence, chenle clears his throat, causing mark to look up at you, and eventually, jaemin to spin his body round in your direction.

“i’m bored.” you say, “that tv looks way too old to function and i don’t know how to play chess.” 

chenle speaks first, “well, i mean, maybe if you actually spend some time with us, you might have some fun.”

“sounds like a blast.” you say sarcastically, “i just think we should go out and do something in the snow instead of just being all cooped up in here for the third day in a row.”

“it’s too cold.” jaemin utters, “usually it’s not this bad.”

“and? just put on an extra layer.” you reply, looking to mark for help.

sighing, mark speaks up to agree with you, and with his help, you eventually manage to convince chenle and jaemin to go and wake up jisung, before layering up and grabbing your snowboards from the shed behind the cabin.

as you all walk across the mountain to the ski area, occasionally partaking in a small snowball fight on the way, you hurl yourselves onto the ski lifts.

you sit in between jaemin and mark, ignoring mark’s teasing as you struggle to get yourself seated.

once the lift begins to climb, you feel an immediate sense of calm. you’ve always enjoyed these trips, a moment of relaxation away from home, all with your favourite people. it is true that you wish you could bring your girl friends along, but they all hate the boys with a passion for multiple, various (and valid) reasons, and so, with their permission, you go without them.

lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice as you suddenly begin to slip from the ski lift, the bar doing absolutely nothing to keep you in place.

“yn?”, you hear jaemin’s voice beside you, a weird sense of distress lining his voice as he quickly grabs a hold of your arm, attempting to lift you back onto the seat.

but it’s no use, the snowboard beneath you weighs you down and you slip from his grasp.

“mark, she’s slipping.” jaemin urges the other boy beside you.

“shit.”

they both try to bring you up, but as you get higher and higher to the top of the slope, the ground begins to find your feet, pulling you down with it.

you stumble before landing upside down into the snow, luckily not sliding anywhere, but unfortunately feeling a sudden frosty chill as piles and piles of snow seep into your clothing and down your back.

noticing your discomfort, jaemin bends down, lifting your face to his and, with a gentle smile, he brushes your snow-covered hair from your face.

“it’s… everywhere.” you shiver.

“everywhere?” jaemin asks.

you roll your eyes. “not the time for jokes.”

it takes you a while to notice mark standing behind jaemin, but when you do, you tell them both to continue on without you and that you’ll find your own way back to the cabin to change your clothes.

nodding after making sure that you’re okay, mark leaves to snowboard down the slope, leaving you and jaemin as you sit, still shaking, covered in ice and snow.

“i’m gonna-“ you say, getting up.

jaemin interrupts. “let me help you.”

“i don’t need help.” you reply.

there is a moment of silence before jaemin speaks again, as if he is choosing his words carefully.

“i know a better way to warm you up.”

your face lines in an expression of shock.

“we promised we wouldn’t do it here.” you say, “what if one of the others see something?”

“they won’t.” he smiles at you before pointing in the direction of the others, all enjoying themselves drifting down the snow, swerving in all kinds of directions.

it doesn’t take much for you to give in. so when you get back to the cabin, eventually changing into some fresh clothes that will eventually be pointless, jaemin turns out to be right.

he does know a way to warm you up.

his request didn’t surprise you, and you’re unsure if the others finding out that you and jaemin have been secretly hooking up for the past year is an all too bad thing. but at the thought of them having a little bit too much fun potentially teasing you both, you decided to keep it on the down-low.

it was never supposed to happen; you and jaemin are best friends. but after jaemin’s vow to stop playing with girls’ hearts and your fresh break up with your ex, you both decided that the logical thing to do is to use each other when you need it. it was simple.

over the past year, you have established 3 main rules for your ‘friends with benefits’ situation. number 1: you and jaemin can both sleep with other people if you so wish, number 2: no feelings are involved, if one person begins to feel anything for the other, then you must break it off. (this one isn’t and never will be a problem for you two, but you need to add it there anyway; you’ve heard the stories about jaemin the ‘serial heartbreaker’, and you definitely don’t want to be a victim of that) and number 3: no sleeping together during the winter ski trip. right now, you are breaking a rule, and neither you, nor jaemin, seem to care. it does scare you a little, however, considering how easily jaemin was willing to break it, and it has you wondering how strong the other rules even are.

after cleaning yourself up, you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself and jaemin a hot chocolate, sprinkling far too much powdered chocolate on the whipped cream and having to clear up all your mess soon after. jaemin follows you into the kitchen, pulling his shirt back over his head.

“can i ask you something?” jaemin says, reaching his arm past you to scoop his finger into the whipped cream and swiping it onto your nose. you push him away, watching as he giggles at you frantically wiping the cream off your nose in annoyance.

“sure.” you reply, and he leans on the counter beside you.

“when was the last time you slept with someone else?”

if you say the question doesn’t surprise you, you’d be lying. jaemin knows you can sleep with other people, it’s part of your rules. so why do you feel as though you’re in trouble?

“last saturday. that party on joomi’s street. eric sohn.”

jaemin’s face is unreadable. you continue, “if you’re worried you have competition, i wouldn’t worry. it was just one night.” you laugh.

“oh, i’m not worried.” he replies, “especially after the way you were saying my name back in there.”

his head tilts to the side to point in the direction of your room and you look over on instinct, memories of the past 30 minutes flashing in your mind and causing you to forget what you were even about to say.

but when you look over to the doorway, something else catches your attention.

or someone else.

standing at the front door, snowboard in hand and ski mask pulled down to his chin, stands a mortified, and astonished mark lee.

you freeze up, and no longer from the cold chill of snow.

he has heard everything.

you’re completely fucked.

❆ ❆ ❆

pacing around the kitchen and watching as mark looks between you both, you begin to attempt to redeem yourself.

“look, mark, that wasn’t what it sounded like, me and jaemin would never.”

mark looks at you, skeptical, before turning his attention to jaemin, who stands in the back corner of the kitchen, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed as if none of this is bothering him.

mark looks back at you. “yoooo, i mean, i guess i always knew there was something off about you guys.”

you rush towards him, clutching his shoulders. “i promise you, mark, it’s not like that-”

“we’re fucking.” jaemin finally speaks, and yours and mark’s heads both whip towards him in shock. jaemin shrugs, as if it isn’t a big deal.

“jaemin.” you say sternly, “what are you doin-”

“what? he caught us, there’s no point in denying it.”

“this is unbelievable.” mark chuckles, “i gotta go tell the others.”

“no you don’t.” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm.

he rolls his eyes. “alright, but at least give me details, man. how long? when did it start? why?”

you look to jaemin, not wanting to answer for yourself.

“about a year,” he says, “and why not?”

“why not?!” mark exclaims in disbelief, “i don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re best friends? what if you end up catching-”

“not gonna happen.” says jaemin, “we dont see eachother like that, never will.”

mark only continues to laugh, “this is nuts. you guys haven’t been doing it all weekend, have you? i don’t think i wanna hear it if you guys end up getting busy while we’re all meant to be asleep.”

“nope,” you reply. “this is the first and only time we’ve done it here. we sort of made it a rule so that this wouldn’t happen.”

before you can finish your conversation, chenle walks through the door. “so what wouldn’t happen?” he says, scanning his eyes between yours and jaemin’s lack of outdoor wear compared to mark’s.

“nothing.” you reply.

“nothing?” he asks, studying mark and jaemin’s expressions.

there is a second where no one speaks, but that seems to be enough for chenle, because the next thing he says is: “you guys fucked, didn’t you?”

mark can’t keep in his smile as he tries not to laugh and give it away, but jaemin’s stern expression speaks volumes.

chenle shrugs before taking off his coat and making his way to the fridge, “ehh, was sort of obvious anyways.”

“what?” you exclaim, “how?”

his eyebrow raises as he takes a bite of the donut he had taken out its packet, “jaemin swearing off girls the same time as you breaking up with your ex, you constantly ditching our movie nights to ‘hang out with your cat,’ and jaemin suddenly changing from being an insufferable prick to actually being half nice.” jaemin lets out a laugh at the last comment. “i have more if you want me to continu-“

 “thats okay, no thank you,” you speak up, “first of all, jaemin is still an insufferable prick.”

“thanks.” jaemin butts in.

“no problem.” you turn your head to him quickly before you continue, causing the others to laugh. “and secondly, i do actually go to hang out with my cat. i love her.” you say, offended.

“whatever.” chenle replies, a judging expression on his face.

they both took the news a lot better than you thought, so you decide to let them tell jisung, who is undoubtedly the most surprised at the revelation. but jaemin’s silence throughout the whole conversation annoys you. you don’t understand why he was being so quiet about it. but when you hear mark and jaemin whispering amongst themselves while you were meant to be in the shower, your confusion peaked.

“this isn’t like you, man.” it sounded like mark’s voice.

“i know.” jaemin replied.

that’s all you heard.

for the rest of the night, you all wrap yourselves in blankets on the sofa to watch some movie that jisung wanted to watch, the fireplace emitting a radial heat and deep hue of ember, softening you into a state of tiredness, drifting off as your head rests on the hard sofa next to you.

it’s only after you wake up that you realize it is certainly not the sofa that you were lying against, but instead, jaemin’s shoulder.

you hear the melodic birdsong as it fills the air outside, the white of snow lighting up the room. or is it chenle’s hideous singing in the shower that you hear? it’s hard to tell.

breaking yourself from jaemins sleeping grasp, you get up to look out the window. you’re meant to go home today, this is supposed to be your final morning of the trip.

but as you peek your vision out the window, around 3 feet of snow covers the floor all around the cabin, the four wheels of marks camper van not even visible.

“uhm, guys..” you call out, grabbing the attention of a freshly showered chenle, a mid breakfast-making mark, a book occupied jisung and a half asleep jaemin. they all stop their various activities at the urgency in your voice, coming over to you and looking out the window for themselves.

it takes each of them about 5 minutes to process what this means; your trip is going to be extended. you are trapped.

and you may be trapped but yours and jaemins secret is very much free.

it finally hits 3pm and you realise that you have all spent the entire day enveloped in boredom, watching as the snow falls and continues to form on the ground. there is no way all this snow will clear in just a few days.

you are lucky that chenle had brought nearly double the amount of food that you needed originally, meaning all you had to do now was to sit and wait it out. 

lounging on the sofa, you listen to the smooth rhythm of chenles jazz vinyl playing on loop across the room. you’re bored, and you can’t even go outside. you can tell the others are bored too, that same expression of ‘i just want to go home now.’ plastered on all of their faces. 

but their expressions quickly flip when a knock rattles from the front door.

you all look at each other in question before collectively jumping up in sync, running at inhuman speeds to the door. you were about to be saved, removed from the shackles of dullness and provided passage back home. 

being the first to get to the door, you grab a hold of the handle, struggling in attempts to only slightly crack it open to keep the snow outside.

but when you open the door and poke your head through the crack, you’re met with a very familiar face.

hayun. also known as, jaemins long-time ‘secret’ infatuation: his crush. 

your mind shatters in disbelief as you pull the door fully open to let the other guys see who it is, no longer caring about the snow as it comes piling in.

all because the look on jaemins face is priceless.

the others all look to him to see what he’s going to say, and unsurprisingly, all he has to say is ‘hi.’ you wouldn’t expect more from him, he’s never spoken a word that exceeds a greeting to her before.

following jaemins poor attempt at an introduction, you take over.

“what are you doing here? are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern for the girl lining your voice. 

“well, i was here on a ski trip with my friends but, they all abandoned me.”

“what?” you ask. 

“and i remembered seeing a few of your guys’ instagram posts saying you were here so… i thought i’d knock.”

“wow.” mark says, “your friends suck.”

“i know. so, any chance i can stay here? i would go home but the weather isn’t exactly drivable.”

you turn to the rest of your group, concluding the pity in their faces before turning back to hayun. “of course! we don’t have a spare room and the sofa gets cold at night but i have a double bed if you don’t mind sharing.”

“thank you so much!” she grins before stepping inside and pulling you in for a hug. you cringe as you come into contact with the cold casing of her coat, the ice cool against your skin as you try not to push her off of you. 

in all honesty, you feel bad for her and you know that jaemin is about to get relentlessly bullied by the rest of the group. this was about to make your extended trip a whole lot more interesting.

it hasn’t been a long time since he developed a crush on hayun, spotting her across the other side of his lecture hall. he always gives you some excuse as to why he’s somehow never gotten a chance to speak to her, so you presume that he’s happy that he finally has. either that or completely terrified. either way, you’re happy for him.

yes, you are. you’re happy for him.

❆ ❆ ❆

a few hours pass as you show hayun around the cabin, making space for her things in your room. letting her unpack, you make your way to the front room, finding jaemin and mark on the sofa, seemingly midway through a conversation. 

“oh, don’t let me stop you.” you say, urging them to continue their talk after they cease talking at your arrival.

mark turns back to jaemin. “i think you should go for it, dude, what harm could come out of it, huh?” he says.

you’re curious, “you’re gonna ask her out?” you say to jaemin.

he smirks, “maybe, maybe not.”

somehow, something in your heart doesn’t like the idea of jaemin asking out hayun. you’re not sure if it’s the idea of you and him ending this whole ‘friends with benefits’ situation, or the fact that you’re probably going to have to step back from being his best friend, because, let’s face it, there’s no way she would ever let you stay as close as you now are if they got together.

you slap the idea out of your head; he hasn’t even asked her out yet. 

mark notices the internal battle you have with yourself. “something wrong with that, yn?”

if jaemin wasn’t here right now, blocking you from mark by sitting in between you, you one hundred percent would have punched him at that.

jaemin looks over to you, a questioning expression on his face. 

“uh.. no…” you reply, apprehensive.

“oh come on, i saw the face you just made. you’re jealous that he’s gonna be fucking someone else, aren’t you?” mark continues.

you don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the truth in marks words and the cold presence of jaemins gaze on you. 

“im not jel- “ you begin, but jaemin interrupts you. 

“yn.” he says. it’s just your name but it holds so much meaning. “am i not allowed to have a girlfriend?”

“‘course you can.” you reply, shrugging.

mark raises his eyebrow at you and you seriously consider getting up and kicking him. 

jaemin continues, “good. it's decided then. i'm gonna ask her out.” 

mark pats him on the back, laughing, “good luck, dude.”

you smile in acknowledgement as jaemin thanks mark before chenle comes in, completely changing the subject when he starts complaining about hayun’s infiltration of his ‘well organised fridge.’ 

you zone out their conversation to reassure yourself that you truly don't care that jaemin was going to try to get close to hayun, but you can't help but feel like you're about to be replaced. you always knew it was going to happen, that one day jaemin would want to settle down with a girl. but you're just so used to his playboy personality that you just never expected it to be so soon. 

amongst the endless drill of chatter, you feel a sudden glance in your direction, and as you look up, jaemins eyes suddenly divert away from you, as if he got caught looking. you want to ask him what he wants, but the silence in his demeanour tells you that you shouldn't. it's bittersweet; the end of his situation with you, marks the start of one with hayun. its a trade in which you don't want to be part of, but you fear you have no choice – only time can decide.

the rest of the day went by quickly. maybe it was because of your new addition to the vacation or simply because chenle found a cupboard full of dusty boardgames that you decided to occupy yourselves with. naturally, it was you and mark that beat everyone else at your very long, grueling game of monopoly, but that quickly flipped to jisung when you took your turns at scrabble. 

the entire time, you and mark teased jaemin relentlessly, catching glimpses as he (unwilling) took his seat next to hayun, pushed there by chenle and jisung and ending up on her team. you could tell that he was getting annoyed at you both giggling at him, but you didn't care; it only made the entire thing so much more fun. 

by the end of the night, it was time to sleep, so you and hayun took your rightful sides of the bed. it isn't the best sleeping situation, but you’d much rather sleep beside her than have to experience mark’s sweaty feet ever again. (that experience was not one that you want to remember.)

before you can switch the light off, though, you hear hayun sit up. 

“wait, yn, before we sleep…” she says, and you look at her expectantly, “can i ask you something?”

“sure.” you reply. 

she looks down, fiddling with her fingers. “Its jaemin. is he.. single?”

as if you hadn't heard her, you take a pause, processing her question. 

“yeah.” you let a laugh slip, “why? you like him?”

at your question, she giggles and her voice makes you cringe a little. 

“yes. a lot actually, it's sort of the reason why im here..”

you furrow your brow. “what do you mean?”

she takes a deep breath. “my friends never kicked me out.. i just saw that you guys were also here and, well, i thought it'd be a chance for me to get to know him.”

it's as if your ears are deceiving you, the late night tiredness of the conversation urging you to hallucinate. but it's all real, every last word of it. 

“wait, so, you lied?.. to get us to let you stay?”

she nods, and you don't know if you should pity her or hate her guts. 

because you know what it's like to be in love; you know what it's like to like someone so much to the point where you allow yourself to do stupid things. you understand. 

but that doesnt mean that you like her for it. 

“i know you probably think i'm a horrible person.” she says.

“no.. no, not at all.” you reply, and she smiles at your words. 

“thanks yn.”

you laugh back, “so, jaemin huh?”

she looks back down at her fingers, “yeah.. embarrassing right?”

you smile, not just to her, but to yourself. 

“totally.”

❆ ❆ ❆

all night, you debate with yourself over what hayun had told you. on one hand, you can't agree with what she did: lying like that. but her crush on him means that jaemin would be happy, and as his best friend, you can't take that away from him. therefore, amongst your deep pool of thought, her confession swimming in the depths of your mind, you decide that the best thing for you to do, is to hold off telling him that she lied; not only would it ruin their chances of getting together, but therefore, jaemin would only be upset that he never got the chance.

but just because you can't tell jaemin, doesn't mean you can't tell mark. 

“i really don't know what to think about her.” you say, standing in the kitchen over three pans of eggs. mark had asked you to have the task of cooking them, resorting to focus on the rest of the group's breakfast. you know it's because he can't cook eggs to save his life, but he'll never admit that.

“honestly,” he replies, “who cares if she likes jaemin? she’s a sneaky little liar.” 

you laugh, “i don't know, mark. maybe she's just really in love with him.”

“i’m not so sure about that. how could anyone ever be in love with someone who wears a hoodie saying ‘orgasm donor’ in public.”

you roll your eyes and mark continues, “well, i guess we all know who he's donating to now..”

you slap him around the arm, causing him to cackle at your rash response. 

“anyways,’ he continues, “i wont tell jaemin about it if you don't want me to.” 

you nod, “thanks, mark. oh, and you're burning the bacon by the way.”

“oh shit.”

❆ ❆ ❆

deciding that the weather still wasnt good enough to attempt to make the journey home, you all decided to stay another day. although the day was full of indiscriminate party games and full fledged boredom, you somehow managed to make it through to nightfall. 

you’re nearly drifting off to sleep when you hear a tap at the door of your’s and hayun’s room. turning over to see hayun fast asleep, you get up to see who’s there, wondering what idiot buffoon decided to wake you up at 4 o’clock in the morning. 

by means of absolutely no surprise, it’s a disheveled jaemin, hair sticking up in about seven different directions and a crumpled tshirt that rises ever so slightly above his pyjama pants waistline, exposing skin that you do not have the energy to be fawning over. although, that’s exactly what you’re doing.

assuming that he’s here to finally break the news to hayun in some twisted, sensual late night confession, you turn your back to jaemin to call her name. in noticing what you’re about to do, jaemin reaches an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to him that the palm of his other hand can cover your mouth. 

“will you shut up?” you don't need to see his face to know he's rolling his eyes, “this isn't exactly something i want her to see.”

oh.

he lets go of you, spinning you round to face him by your shoulders. he’s done this before: knocking on your door in the dead of night when he needs you. but you never expected him to do it here. not after your conversation with mark a few days ago, and certainly not whilst his crush was staying in your room. it all seems so bizarre. 

but you weren't going to say no. 

❆ ❆ ❆

the next morning, you realise that you had completely and utterly fucked up. 

the warmth of jaemin next to you remains, his arm slung lazily over the front of your stomach. you expect to open your eyes to jaemins ceiling back at home, but to much avail, you are very much still on vacation.

and you had four pairs of eyes staring down on you both to prove that. 

you jump out of jaemin’s hold immediately, causing him to slowly stir before mumbling something incoherent into the sheets. when he finally realises the situation you’re in, he takes the pillow beside his head, pushing it into his face. 

“you promised you wouldn't do it here, man.” mark starts. but your focus isn't on him, it's on hayun. 

and she's livid.

you turn the attention of your words to her. “im sorry. i should have told you.”

jaemin finally gets up, picking up his discarded shirt off the ground and pulling it over his head before sitting back on the end of the bed. 

hayun eyes him for any form of an apologetic sense, but he gives off nothing, and you fear this only makes her angrier.

your fear is proven correct when she suddenly snaps at you, “you knew i liked him and you still went and did this behind my back?”

at her words, the mood in the room suddenly shifts. what was an atmosphere of laughter and mischief at them catching you and jaemin together, is now suddenly a room of tension, a room that you no longer want to be in. 

but it's jaemins reaction that formulates the world's most unfortunate predicament. 

his head turns to you, a look of disappointment and what seems to be hurt, plastered on his face. “she likes me? and you hid it from me?”

you don't know what else to say, so you just tell him the truth. “yes, but it's not that simpl-”

“i don't care, yn.” he gets up, pushing past chenle to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. 

fuck. you’ve messed up.

but one thing is nagging at you: jaemin seems to care far more about the fact that you hid the truth from him than what the truth actually entailed. you tell yourself he’s probably just embarrassed. either that or just completely and utterly in denial about it. either way, he’s acting strange; he should be happy, not angry. 

the entire day, jaemin didn’t utter a single word to you. as for hayun, she had been hidden away in your room, not speaking to a single person and avoiding any opportunity to accidentally bump into you. you did feel bad, you should have told her about it the second that she confessed her feelings for jaemin to you. but you had assumed from jaemin’s previous conversation with you, that you were calling it off, jaemin seeming pretty aware about the fact that she was now here. how were you supposed to predict him rocking up to your room at 4am?

anyhow, you spent the day with mark, discussing the ending of titanic and eating way too much chocolate to be healthy. when night came once more, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea to go back to your room, scared about facing the wrath of the girl who resided in it. instead, after washing up in the bathroom, you make your way to the sofa in the front room. 

your actions are halted when you hear voices coming from the other side of jaemin’s door. you know you shouldn't eavesdrop on a private conversation, but you can’t help yourself. 

you register the second voice as mark as you get close enough to hear them clearer, just enough until you can hear what they're saying.

your heart hurts in your chest when you do. 

“i'm still going to ask her out, even with things the way they are.” you hear jaemin whisper. 

it's like a sudden shot to the chest. this is exactly what you feared from the very beginning, this is exactly what you trusted jaemin enough not to do. 

he’s choosing her over his best friend; he’s choosing her over you. 

trying to remain as quiet as possible, you continue your journey to the sofa, pain causing you to wince with every footstep – he's leaving you behind.

as you lie on the sofa, the chill air of the cabin surrounding you despite the presence of the fireplace, forcing you to wrap the blanket around you tighter, you struggle to bring yourself to sleep. but when you hear footsteps from the kitchen, you peek your head over the back of the sofa to see who’s there. 

at your movement, the culprit looks up from their snack-making and their eyes meet yours.

“jaemin?” you whisper, “why are you awake?”

“hungry.” he turns back, working on spreading the peanut butter onto his bagel. “what are you doing sleeping out here? it's way too cold.”

you stand up, making your way to the kitchen to stand behind him, blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you shiver from the frost. “i don’t think hayun likes me right now.” you say.

jaemin turns to face you, biting into his bagel. “i wonder why.” he says sarcastically, mouth half-full. you hate to admit it, but he looks incredibly alluring, he always does in the middle of the night. 

you hate the fact that he’s acting this way with you, dismissive and persistent, but he has every right, you hid so much from him, and you hurt him in the process. 

you’re at war with yourself, but in all honesty you know that you were in the wrong; for your friendship to work, you need to tell him everything. everything.

“actually,” you start, taking a deep breath, “there’s something you don't know.”

jaemin’s interest in the conversation suddenly spikes, looking for you to continue. 

“hayun… she.. wasn’t actually abandoned by her friends.”

“what?”

“the night she told me she liked you, she also told me that she ditched her friends because she saw that we were here. she lied about them kicking her out so that we would feel bad and let her stay, so that then she could finally get her chance to talk to you.” you pause, attempting to read jaemin’s face but failing, getting nothing from his expression. “i should have told you, but i didn't want you to get hurt. instead… i did exactly that. i'm sorry, jaemin, really.”

when you finish speaking, you notice as jaemin’s lips slightly curl into a smile before dropping back to his cold demeanor, and it makes you question whether you really saw it or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. 

“yn..” he trails off, whatever he wants to say interrupted by your sudden panic in not wanting to embarrassing yourself.

you ramble, scared that he won't accept your apology. “but like you said to mark earlier, if you still want to ask her out, that's fin-”

“wait, what?” jaemin says, moving from his position leaning against the counter to stand upright. 

“i, um, heard you and mark talking earlier about how you were still going to ask her out despite everything..” you say. 

jaemin laughs to himself and you grow confused. “oh, yn.” he says. 

“what? what’s so funny?”

“you never did get my hints, did you.”

your heart freezes in your throat, the cold weather no longer chilling you but instead the bitter taste of jaemin’s words as they formulate in your brain. 

he continues, noticing your confusion. “it was never her that i had a crush on. it was never her that i was planning to ask out.”

you’re struggling to breath, each intake of oxygen getting caught in your chest. 

“yeah, i thought she was kinda pretty when i first saw her across my lecture a few months ago, but that was long before i fell for who i really wanted.” he smiles, inching closer to you. “and after everyone found out that i was sleeping with you, i decided that there was no longer an excuse for me to hide my feelings.” he takes a hold of your hand, looking down at it as he plays with your fingers. “i was starting to get pretty pissed that you wouldn’t pick up any of my hints, you know? you can’t even imagine how embarrassed i was to find out that it was because you were trying to play cupid for me and someone else.”

your mind is vacant, filled with the epiphany of his words as they resonate in your head, playing a tune of melancholic rhythm as it twists into an allegro.

“but… the rule.” you say. 

jaemin chuckles, “i think we stopped caring about those rules a while ago, yn. i know i did. ”

you’re no longer cold, jaemins warmth radiating against you like the blissful aura of a flame, attracting you and drawing you closer. 

it was then that you realised that you haven't said anything to equate his long speech, but words can do nothing to describe the way that you’re feeling. its as if someone had approached you with a mirror, brutally displaying each of your own hidden thoughts and projecting them back at you. because every single word that jaemin muttered, you found deep within yourself. it all clicks, perfectly and irrevocably, into place. your jealousy, your embarrassment, your stupidity. 

your love. 

instead of attempting to sum up all of your feelings into words, you do the one thing that will live up to the emotions that reside within you. taking not a single moment to prepare yourself, you lean closer to him, his eyes finding your lips. you nod, its small but the gesture means so much. it's an agreement, a sealing of mutual understanding. it's slow and it's incredibly gentle as his lips greet yours, soft in a way unlike ever before. kisses between you and jaemin were always the result of lust, of stupidity. but now, it's the result of something far greater. 

it’s love. 

❆ ❆ ❆

when the sun rises above the horizon, you leap from jaemin’s bed, him giggling at your eagerness. 

“oh my god, it's finally clear!!” you yell, waking up each of the boys with your burst of excitement. you could finally go home. 

the morning consisted of three major revelations. one: you all contacting hayun’s friends, watching as they dragged her into their car to drive her home. two: discovering that chenle had only showered once throughout the entire vacation (you all started placing bids as to who gets to not sit next to him on the journey back) and three: witnessing the boys’ reactions to your’s and jaemins new secret. 

“i knew you’d do it, dude.” mark said, attempting to fist bump jaemin in the most cringe-worthy interaction you’ve ever seen in your life. jisung and chenle however, were completely baffled, and it took about thirty minutes of explaining for them to understand that it was you that jaemin had a crush on, and not hayun. you’re still convinced that jisung doesn't understand.

once you had all packed your things, you grabbed your suitcases, standing in the porch as chenle locked the front door for the final time. 

“im going to miss this place.” mark says, exaggerating an act of sadness as he clutches his chest. 

“im not,” chenle replies, “i’ve never been so bored in my entire fucking life.”

“it’s been fun.” you say, smiling.

jaemin’s voice comes from next to you. “eh, could have been better.” 

you turn to him in offence. 

he continues, “i'm just saying, i never got to actually snowboard.”

“are you suggesting what i think you’re suggesting…?” mark replies, looking around the group and meeting similar grins and looks of hopefulness. 

jaemin shrugs, “i dont know, am i?”

as if on cue, you all drop your suitcases in the snow, laughter and coils of happiness springing between you as you run to the shed behind the cabin for one last time. 

no other winter ski trip ever got near to living up to that one. 

not even close. 

[lightseoul]

a/n. pleasantly surprised at how quickly i wrote this bit, it practically wrote itself. glad the first part was interesting for a lot of you—i love writing about psych/therapy stuff (despite my complex relationship with 'em), and ofc bkg <3 i honestly don't know where i'm going with this, but it's been fun so far. (0.8k)

navigation. part 1, (you are here)

thankfully—and to the relief of whatever dignity he had left—that interaction was short-lived.

well, it’s mostly because after you blinked at him for what felt like a torturous eternity and said a shaky hello back, he gave you a curt nod as if he wasn’t the one who just initiated the exchange and bolted it out of there without a single glance back.

that bit haunted him for the next few days, reappearing in his consciousness whenever the topic of therapy or anything remotely close to it was broached. he even snapped at kirishima when the redhead asked how his latest session went during one of their evening patrols together. it was a kneejerk reaction, an entirely out-of-proportion, aggressive response that shocked even him, which says a lot.

he should go ahead and text the guy an apology.

eventually, though, that unfortunate powwow slowly faded into the background of his exceptionally busy mind as the days went on. things got so hectic in the agency that he had to postpone his appointment for the week, which—quite frankly—is an upside to this chaos, because he sure wasn’t pumped about discussing his love life, or the lack thereof, with the jarringly knowing middle-aged lady. being able to definitively avoid you and buy you more time to forget about his stupid social blunder is merely the cherry on top.

okay, maybe the incident didn’t actually slip his mind after all.

“…bakugou-san? are you still with me?”

dazed, bakugou squeezes his eyes shut before fluttering them open, and what greets him is the very same lady against the backdrop of her increasingly familiar office, only this time she’s looking more concerned than perceptive.

right. he’s supposed to be in the middle of a session right now.

“yeah, sorry,” he mumbles, shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of irrelevant thoughts and focus on the matters at hand. therapy is expensive, after all. “i’m here.”

that doesn’t seem to placate the woman who instead prods, much to his chagrin. “you seem out of it today. is there something in your mind that you want us to talk about?”

for a second, he debates caving and just telling her the dumb shit that happened two weeks ago, but then backtracks when it dawns on him how ridiculous everything is. what is he, a prepubescent boy? he died and survived a major war, for fuck’s sake. why is he so hung up on seeming awkward for once in his life?

even hearing it in his head is embarrassing enough.

that settles it, then. his lips are and will remain sealed.

but then his gaze refocuses on his therapist, and the sheer ‘unconditional positive regard’ or whatever the crap is called that she’s radiating becomes so palpable that it just spills out of him.

“i fucked up.”

that makes the lady frown—which, if he thinks about it, is understandable, because he rarely opens up about his failures, let alone this blatantly—although she manages to quickly school her expression into a more neutral one. “can i ask you to expound on it?”

at that, bakugou sighs, because it’s either he just tells the laughable truth or actually cite one of his actual mistakes—which he’s not feeling right now, by the way. or he can expertly maneuver the conversation to another topic, but something tells him there’s no getting out of the current subject. maybe today, there is, but it’ll surely loom over their next sessions indefinitely until either of them revisits it.

he should know. it’s happened to him too many times, he’s lost count.

with this realization, he can only sigh again.

“it’s stupid,” he preempts.

“i’d like to hear it regardless,” comes her classic, supportive response.

and so he does it. talk, that is. it starts off a bit rough—he didn’t know how to even begin without flushing like an idiot, but he managed to get the brief anecdote going. he still ended up blushing anyway—the warmth in his cheeks was undeniable—and if she noticed, she gratefully didn’t point it out. by the time he’s finished with the trivial tale, he’s mildly out of breath, having said everything in one continuous burst.

“i told you,” he spits when she doesn’t say anything for a beat. “it’s stupid.”

“i’d normally ask you to reconsider the adjectives you use for yourself and your experiences, but i think you’ve heard enough of that.”

he snorts. damn straight.

the woman then shoots him a smile, and he has to tamp down the reflex to bristle at an impending attempt to placate him. fortunately, it doesn’t come.

what does, instead, is a question.

one that catches him completely off guard.

“did you find her attractive?”

the fuck, is his first, immediate thought.

but then his normally trusty and acute brain seemingly comes to life and promptly supplies a second one that leaves him frozen and utterly dumbfounded.

yes.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra | @kalulakunundrum @cheezemanz @gold24fish @lunaryasha

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 8, A moment of bliss

Masterlist Word count: 3.5 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: Hi everyone. Enjoy Sylus being a switch/bottom for this one. He won't be for every chapter, but he's desperate and you've been waiting for this sooooo... I do want to remind everyone that this is my first time writing a smutty story. I hope it makes sense. <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'And then he slept over,' you tell Zayne over the phone and quickly add, 'we just cuddled. It was nice.' He doesn't need to say anything for you to know he disapproves. Just wait, he'll tell you that you shouldn't invite men you don't know over to your apartment. Especially not types like Sylus. 

'That's nice. He deserves something good in his life.' "What?!" 'Are you still there?' You probably stayed silent with your jaw on the floor a little too long. Maybe you shouldn't be too surprised. When you showed Zayne a picture of Sylus he looked physically pained, but not in a fearful way. It was empathetic. 

'Yes, yes, I'm still here, sorry. I expected you to lecture me on inviting strange men into my apartment,' you admit. 

'I would, but I know this man. I think he's a good one,' Zayne admits, 'I'm glad you ran into him. Seems the type for you.' Fair enough. Zayne has listened to you whine about men often enough to be glad you're finally actually like one. There's a knock at your door and a rush of nerves goes through your system. 

'Oh, that must be him,' you tell Zayne, 'I'll call you later, okay? We still need to set a date for our annual trip.' 

'Sure. I'll talk to you later.' His voice sounds amused, almost like he's smiling through the phone. You feel a little flustered. He probably picked up on your tone change when you heard the knocks on the door. 

'Bye.' You put your phone in your pocket and walk towards the door, stopping in front of the hallway mirror to check yourself one last time. Outfit, comfy but cute. Hair, eh, good enough. Makeup, minimal but nice. You pull the door open to reveal Sylus in a barely buttoned black blouse and slacks. Now you feel awfully underdressed in your jeans. Are you sure you agreed on dinner and a movie at his place? This looks like he's taking you to a 3-star dining and rented the whole cinema. 

But, you should have known he was going to be dressed like that. After all, it was the same outfit he wore in his newest video. The one he posted today, earlier than he usually does. In a way, you feel like he did it to tease you. Especially since it wasn't all that erotic. It was just him sitting back against the headboard of his bed with a book in his hand, reading the most utterly horny smutty chapter you've ever heard in your damn life. It nearly made you fall off your chair running to your room to masturbate, but you decided against it. The night's still young after all. 

The chapter stuck with you though. Because it wasn't all that horny because of the actual sex happening, but more because of the love between the characters. To be desired so carnally, to be loved so openly, is a fucking turn on. 

'You look beautiful,' he notes, taking all of your thoughts away with one look. The way his eyes rake over you, you feel like you're a marble statue in a museum. Loved, admired, valued, but most of all, beautiful. A blush spreads on your cheeks. 

'Thank you. You look nice too.' 

'Just nice?' 

'Stunning.' The nerves don't calm down and you're not sure why. You've already had him in your bed, you kissed him, cuddled him, let him... Why are you blushing at the thought of it now? Is it because this is a proper date? It's not even that serious. It's just dinner and a movie at his place. 

'Ready?' He offers you his arm. You nod and place your hand on his forearm. It's awfully proper, but it does feel very nice to be treated so respectfully. 

'I have to say, I was expecting a kiss,' you admit. He grins and leans down to press a soft kiss on your lips. Nothing special, just a gentle greeting from a lover. 

A lover? No, more than that. It feels like home. Like you've been kissing his lips for years, but the spark is still there. Like this is how it's meant to be. Like he is completely and utterly in love with you, and you feel the same. 

Shit, you're in love. 

Sylus leads you into his apartment. The one time you were in there, you didn't really take in his decor. It's very much him. The whole place is made up of black, white, some dark wood tones, yet it still feels warm. It might be because he has taken a page out of your book with all the candles he's lit around the apartment. The dining table is set beautifully. There's red wine on the table already, along with a beautiful bouquet of deep red roses that look almost velvety. There's some music playing that feels slightly suggestive but not enough to comment on. 

'Wow, you really went all you,' you note. You feel his arm slip from your grasp and around your waist to pull you closer against him. He looks down at you with the lightest flicker of a big smile. 

'For you, I'd rearrange the stars if you asked me to. Now go sit down. Food will be ready in a bit.' 

Sylus stands behind the stove while you take a seat at the table. Of course, you take the seat across from the kitchen so you can watch him work. The way he slightly is swaying and softly humming along with the music is truly a vision to behold. A domestic vision. A vision of a future you'd like to live. 

He looks over his shoulder, seeing you leaning on your palm, elbow on the table, staring at him. You feel your cheeks heat up again but no urge to look away. Instead, you smile at him and he smiles back. He picks up the pan and walks over to the table, setting it down in the middle between the two plates.  

'Pasta alla Norma. Say when,' he says as he starts dishing out the food on your plate. You nod your head to him after a bit, having a very generous portion of pasta on your plate. He does the same for himself and grabs the wine to uncork it. All of it goes so smooth, so fluent, like every motion of his is perfected. 

And so is the food. It's not that special of a pasta dish but it's made so damn well. 'Is there anything you can't do,' you joke, 'I might just have to marry you right here and now.' His lips quirk into a smile. 

'Are you sure, sweetie? We barely know each other,' he teases back, 'what if I turn out to be a serial killer?' 

'Then I'd die a happy death.' Even though you are joking, somewhere in the back of your mind you know that it's true. You've never had a connection to anyone before like you have with him. It's new and exciting, but most of all it feels right. 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

The dinner is mostly uneventful, except that Sylus got some sauce on his clothes. He claimed it was because he was admiring you, but you saw him struggle to get the bite on his fork properly. However, this one time you decided not to tease him because you do want to cuddle up to him during the movie. 

At least, that was the plan. Pure innocent cuddling.  

Seems Sylus has different plans. You're sitting leaned against him, knees pulled up onto his lap, his arm around you, but for about ten odd minutes now his free hand has been tracing figured on your thigh. Each passing moment he seems to get a little bit closer to your inner thigh. 

The teasing gets you hot and bothered, which only makes Sylus smirk. You don't have to look up at him to know. He moves his other hand from your shoulder to your waist, his thumb gently rubbing your skin so that your shirt starts riding up until you feel his touch on your skin. 

That's when he shoves his other hand between your thighs, so close to your core, pulling a gasp from your lips. As you smack your hand in front of your mouth and look up, you can already feel Sylus’ laugh rumbling through his chest. You won't stand for that shit. 

With one swift movement, you sit yourself on his lap. Hands gently draped over his shoulders; hips so close to his but not quite close enough. He hooks his hands under your thighs and pulls you right on top of his bulge. The friction makes you gasp, but you try to keep a straight face. 

'We're not watching the movie, are we,' he asks suggestively. You move your hands to the buttons of his shirt and start undoing them slowly, one by one. In response, his hands start roaming over your hips, your thighs, they grace your ass and lower back. You feel yourself start to grind against him ever so slightly. It's almost involuntarily and gets more intense when you see how much Sylus is blushing while trying to keep a straight face. 

'Don't know why you're asking me. You're the one who started it.' Your hands get to the bottom button that you can still see. Instead of undoing it, you splay your hands out over his stomach, exploring all the skin you've freed as you rake your nails over the lean muscles on his stomach. 

'Mmm, I know sweetie, but consent is sexy,' he groans, moving his head towards your shoulder, he presses a kiss under your ear, 'do I have your consent?' 

'You do,' you say breathlessly, moving your hands behind his neck, entangling your fingers in his hair as you grind on him a little harder. He gently bites the spot he just kissed as a reply and grips your hips roughly, guiding you over him while he bucks up at you. His breathing becomes labored as you two dry fuck like a bunch of horny teenagers. 

He moves his head to kiss your lips. It's all tongue and teeth, desperately chasing a high. Somewhere in your mind you had expected Sylus to be cool, calm, collected when it comes to sex, but seeing him this excited because of you gives you confidence the likes of which you have never experienced. 

Suddenly, he drops his head back to your shoulder and bites down as his movements become less rhythmic. He stops moving all together and looks up at you with big eyes, staring up at you like you're made of pure stardust. 

'Did you just-' 

'Yes.' 

'Because-' 

'Because an angel was riding me.' A grin spreads across your face. He came in his pants like a fucking teenager because of you. That's so fucking hot. If he starts praising you any more you might just become a nightmare to deal with. 

'Wanna do it again without clothes?' 

'More than you could ever imagine.' He grabs your ass and stands up with you in his arms. A yelp slips from your lips as you quickly grab his shoulders. There's that smirk again. Shit, this could be the switch Olympics at this point, that way that you keep flipping. 

Being in Sylus’ bedroom is slightly strange. You've seen it from all angels before, even though you've never been there before. He lays you down on his bed and you see yourself looking back on the ceiling. For a second, your mind is completely lost until you realize that there's mirrors on his ceiling. Strangely, that doesn't surprise you in the slightest. 

Then, you see Sylus taking off his shirt. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him as he undoes the button on his jeans. A devious idea pops into your head and you grab his hand to stop him.  

He watches you intensively as you switch places with him so he is seated at the edge of the bed. His eagerness to touch you has a hold on him but he's trying so hard to let you do whatever. You take his hands and guide them to the hem of your shirt. Then, you slide them up. He quickly catches on and helps you take your shirt off, revealing a beautiful black lace bra. 

'Shit,' he cusses under his breath, tossing your shirt somewhere in the corner. His hands move to your jeans and undo the button and zipper. One peek at your matching undies has him groaning. He helps you step out of your jeans and grabs your hips gently, pulling you towards him. You put your hands on either sides of his face. His eyes are on yours, but they keep flickering down to your lips while his thumbs gently rub your hips. 'All this for me?' 

'All for you.' Your voice comes out sultry, seductive. Nothing you've ever sounded like before. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him, and kisses you slowly. 

'You look beautiful,' he mumbles against your lips, drunk off your body and the lingering thought of being inside it. He finally peels himself off your body and switches sides with you again. 'Lay down. I'll be right back.' 

'Don't leave me,' you whine as you grab his hand. He stops for a second, physically restraining himself. 

'Condom,' he says and lets go of your hand, disappearing into the bathroom. You decide to sit on your knees in the middle of the bed, eagerly awaiting his return while you soak through your panties. It takes him less than a minute to come back, and when he does his jeans are already off. You eye his bulge with your mouth slightly agape. Sure, you had seen it before, but everything looks smaller on a phone screen. He catches the worry in your eyes as he puts one knee on the bed to be closer to you. 'We don't have to-' 

'Shut up,' you quip, 'I'll be fine. Just go slow.' There's that grin again. With one hand, he reaches behind you and unhooks your bra with ease, with the other he hands you the condom, then he guides you onto your back. You try to take off your bra as you lay, but he grabs your hand and guides it to his hair. For a second, you don't understand but then he dips his head down and starts kissing your chest, slowly making his way over your clothed nipple and kissing it, leaving a wet spot on the lace. With his other hand he pushes the straps off your shoulders.  

Within seconds you are reduces to a whimpering, moaning mess. Your legs spread to make room for him and he gratefully takes his place between them. Sylus finally grabs the bra and removes it, joining it with your shirt and pants on the floor. His hand returns to your breast quickly, his hand gently massaging it while his lips make their way down lower. 

Slowly but surely, he reaches your panties and places lingering kisses just above them. Your hips buck up towards him and you hear the rumble of his rich chuckle. 'Sweetie, you know what you do to me. I fear I might not survive if I spend all my time between your legs.' 

'And I fear I might not survive if you don't fuck me right now,' you groan, giving a firm thug on his hair. You hear him gasp and it goes straight to your pussy. You cuss under your breath as you look down at the smug smile he wears. His fingers hook under your panties and pull them off. They join your other clothing on the floor. 

'You're soaked,' he notes, satisfied. 

'And you're not inside me yet.' Another rumbling laugh as he reaches for his own boxers and pulls them off in a swift motion. Shit, he's big and... are those- 

'They'll feel good. Trust me,' he promises as he watches you look at the two piercings making up his frenum ladder. You reach out to touch it and he lets you. He shivers under your touch as you run your hand over the metal beats on the underside of his dick. 

'One of these days I'm going to make you fuck me raw,' you say, not really realizing what you're saying as you're completely enamored with his dick and piercings. 

'You can't say stuff like that. I'm trying to go slow,' he almost gasps for air with every word and snatches the condom from your hand to quickly roll it on. You watch him lean over you, one of his hands firmly planted next to your head, the other guiding his cock towards your entrance. 

'Fuck slow.' You wrap your legs around him, pulling him towards you. He slips inside easily but goddamn it's a fucking stretch to say the very least. All you can hear is a mixed chorus of groans and gasps. He doesn't move his hips as his eyes study your face, fearing the discomfort he sees might be too much for you. However, you could care less. You feel so incredibly full and ecstatic to be spending the night with him that you might just burst right now. You reach out for him, grabbing his shoulders to pull him down for a kiss. 

'Are you alright,' he asks, holding off the kiss until he has your ok, 'I'm all the way in.' 

'I'm fine. Just kiss me and please move. I need it so fucking bad,' you beg. He does as you say, crashing his lips on yours as he sets a painfully slow tempo to get you used to him. You feel like you're going to snap if he keeps this up. 'Please move faster.' Your words sound more like a moan. 

'Are you sure, sweetie? You seem to be enjoying it just fine.' He looks down at you with pure amusement. Seems he's in a mood. You quickly shove his arm and manage to turn him on his back, not that he puts up much of a fight. 

'I thought you wanted me on top,' you tease back, sheeting yourself on his dick in one motion before he can even respond. Sylus lets out a low groan, throwing his head back and clawing at your hips for something to hold on to. 'Are you going to be a good boy for me and let me ride you?' 

'What happens if I say no.' 

'You'll have to find out.' He nods in response and makes himself comfortable on the pillows. You take that as your go ahead and set an absolutely feral pace. He was right about those piercings. They feel amazing.  

The horniest gasp you've ever heard slips from Sylus’ lips as he turns bright red in the face. His hands move down to your thighs, nails digging into your skin. You'll certainly have bruises tomorrow. 

'Does that feel good,' you ask him as you lean down a little, planting your hands on his chest, nails raking over his pecs. 

'Yes,' he moans, looking absolutely beautifully drunk on you. You feel your high approaching, as does he from what you can tell. He's so close to unraveling and it's beautiful. You wish you could capture this moment, keep this feeling bottled up on your nightstand.  

His hands move back to your hips as he suddenly plants his heels against the mattress and starts trusting up into you, hitting new highs deep inside of you. Highs that no one has ever hit before. Highs that you want him to hit each and every day. He's addicting. Your whole body is tingling as you lean closer towards him, trying to keep up with his pace while you kiss him. He seems too focused to kiss you properly. It's a mess of spit, biting, teeth clanking, and it's so fucking hot. You lick down his neck as you feel your high approaching so fucking fast. 

And there it goes. You hear an animalistic groan next to you, feel it rumble through his chest as his motions become sloppier. Your body topples over the edge and in a moment of absolute bliss, to suppress the absolutely vile sounds you make, you bite down on his shoulder. Hard. Sylus moans at the pain, grabbing your ass to push your body down against him, holding you in place speared on his cock. 

Waves of pleasure shake through your body as Sylus presses sweet kisses on top of your head. His hips move ever so slightly, helping you ride it out. Your eyelids start feeling heavy, your body is aching, your pussy is clenching up. 

'Are you alright?' Sylus voice is different now. It sounds almost worried. You release his shoulder from your bite and prop yourself up on his chest. 

'Peachy,' you reply with a hazy smile, 'wanna take a nap and do it again in a few hours?' 

There goes that rumbling laugh of his again. His hands start rubbing your back as he leans up to peck your lips. It's such an innocent gesture if you don't think about the fact that his dick is still inside you, twitching with every single tiny movement you make. 'As much as I would like that. Let's give it a few more hours and do it again in the morning. Deal?' 

'Only if we take a shower together.' 

'I'll do you one better. I have a tub.' 

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[sucodelaranja86]

U ate the jealous! Cho Hyun-Ju request up fr!! Especially the suggestive part lmaoo I love it

Do u think we could get a Hyun-Ju x reader where we suffer a knee injury during one of the games which we try to keep quiet about until one of the other players (maybe young-mi) notices n tries to help us out w it which catches the attention of Hyun-Ju who gets upset n scolds us but were to stubborn to listen n wave her worries off until our injury hurts more n we begrudgingly go to her for help?

- don't hide it from me : ★

featuring: hyun-ju cho x reader

summary: you suffered a knee injury in the middle of the game, but you were too stubborn to tell her.

warnings: slight angst.

A/N: i am taking too long to write more fics, i'm sorry 😭 also, as every single squid game work i do, young-mi lives 😋

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

‣ as you walk out of the second game field amongside your previous group, your heart was still racing from the horrifying experience while you made your way back to the giant dormitory, the peaceful silence of the place creating a harsh contrast to the tense atmosphere you had just left behind. The weight of what was happening began to settle as you sat down once again in the staircase. You haven't expected being put on such a deadly game, and the gravity of the situation made itself clear to you at each passing moment.

‣ but you couldn't deny that what shocked you even more was to find your partner here. One of the only connections you had in the outside world was also put in this messed up game. And judging by the reaction she had when she first saw you, it seemed the feeling was also mutual on her part.

‣ she saw you first in the "green light, red light" game, you were surprised as you felt a familiar grip on you, pushing you in a panicked manner behind her. And in the six-legs game, you stood by her side, hugging her arm close to you.

‣ you 5 were the second group to play and the first one to pass, meaning the dormitory would be empty and silent until the following groups finished their turns. The young man settled in his bed with a loud sigh, laying relaxedly with his mother who also had a similar relieved expression on her face. Hyun-ju sat alone in her bed, a thoughtful expression on her face, while the short, timid girl never left your side. As she sat down next to you, she hugged your arm excitedly.

‣ ― we- we did it! ― young-mi stuttered happily. As she finished saying that, she elbowed you playfully, but what she didn't expect was to see you flinch painfully while hissing. Her expression quickly turned into one of concern, straighten her posture as she looked at you worriedly.

‣ ― [name]? What is it? A-are you alright? ― she mumbled, putting one shaky hand on your back. You looked at her, sensing her worry. ― i'm alright. I just- i think i just gave a bad turn and injured my knee. ― you confessed. Young-mi anxiously looked around, trying to figure out what she should do. She remembered what you said earlier- that you knew Hyun-ju before entering here. And that was the first solution that came into her mind.

‣ The short-haired girl then shakily got up, not taking her hands and gaze away from you, ― i-i'm going to get unnie- she must know what to do- ― you quickly interrupted her sentence with a desperate grunt, holding the girl's wrist for dear life.

‣ ―no- don't. Please. ― even if your voice held a stern tone, you almost begged. Ever since the beginning of this game, you could notice something was wrong with Hyun-ju. At the end of the first game, you two swore to go back home- except she didn't follow that promise, ashamedly clicking on the blue 'O' button. And now, it didn't seem her opinion would change, you could see through her. You know how big of an opportunity this was to change to change both of your lives, and mostly how big of a step it would be to help with her transition. As much as she was ashamed to admit to you, and only you- she couldn't leave this early in the game.

‣ and you didn't want to worry her.

‣ hearing your determined tone, the girl silently nodded, quietly going back to her spot. ― but... Please, treat this as soon as you can. Being injured in a place like this is no good. ― she advised apprehensively. You nodded softly, wanting nothing more than to reassure her that you could manage.

-

‣ you held your pained grunts as you tried to massage your knee without waking up anyone. As the lights turned off, you rapidly pulled your pants up to try to access the situation your injury was. Now finally having time to take a better look at it, even in the dark, you could see how purple and bruised it looked. You had no experience in this field, but tried your best to make the aching pain go away with the little knowledge you had.

‣ you let out a shocked gasp as you felt a strong hand on your shoulder, backing off just to quickly stop due to the throbbing pain. As you fearfully turned your head around, you were met with the stoic face of no one other than Hyun-ju. Her face was turned down as she nonchalantly sat on your bed.

‣ she grabbed your wrists and easily took them off of your knee, earning an agonizing hiss from you. You looked at her, a confused expression on your face as you tried to find the right words to express your thoughts. ― how... How did you know i- ―

‣ ― young-mi. ― she answered shortly, cutting you off without further explanation. Well, it's not like you needed it. She replaced your hands with hers on where they where previously, massaging your knee with a more strong and experienced grip.

‣ after a short period of silence, she continued. ― you should have told me. You can't be this reckless. ― she stated in a low and frustated tone, not letting place for any discussion.

‣ you could only sigh as you allowed her treat you, the pain gradually subsiding. As she finished, you continued looking down ashamedly without muttering a word. As if on cue to act, you received an unasked, but welcomed kiss to your lips, the tense atmosphere quickly shattering down. You looked up to see the previous stern expression on her face gone, replaced by a more soft and caring one.

‣ ― please, don't hesitate to tell me if something happens. I wouldn't live down if anything happened to you. ― she muttered while looking lovingly into your eyes.

‣ you nodded softly while guiding her to lay down with you on your bed, taking care to not injure your knee further. She wrapped her arms around you, laying your face on her chest. As you both settled in, you felt yourself falling asleep quickly. The fatigue creeping up as you snuggled yourself further into her.

‣ young-mi, you snitch.

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

[bambi-kinos]

Sorry for taking so long on this post, I've been writing it in my head for weeks trying to figure out how to phrase everything. But umm I think Paul was in a bath tub when he was taking certain photos of John.

So the book itself is divided into sections based on location. There's a London section, a Paris section, then they go to New York and then on to Miami, etc. The London section is really interesting and the photos are very revealing IMO. I definitely recommend getting your hands on a physical copy, your local library may have it. This is something you should experience physically because uh. There's a lot of John in here. To me at least it's very obvious how deeply in love Paul was with John.

So imagine for a minute that you're Paul McCartney, and you're in London, England with your best mate.

The way that journalists are treating this set of photos makes me feel a little insane because so many of them are saying "this is John and Paul backstage!" Y'all, this is not John and Paul backstage. This is John and Paul in their hotel room. Alone.

First off let's look at this:

Here's John shaving the stubble off his face. Sunglasses still on; John had prescription sunglasses so if he's wearing these then his contacts are not in. Look at the background of this photo:

John's in the way here but that is a set of curtains in a hotel room! You can tell from the horizontal bar on top, those are to hold the black out curtains. And another thing: I think these are John and Paul's suitcases sitting on top of a wardrobe. Not entirely sure about that though since the image is so grainy.

At this point John has taken off his sunglasses, he's brushing his teeth and has washed his face. Again, look at the background:

This is a medicine cabinet, a storage feature in bathrooms to keep toiletries safe from the humidity caused by a bath and/or shower. I don't know how common these are anymore:

What I find interesting about this sequence of photos is that John first pulls a funny face for Paul:

But then something grabs his attention:

Spits out the toothpaste:

And then off John nyooms...making soft eyes at Paul no less.

Pay close attention to the background on this photo! We're seeing the hotel window from another angle, the horizontal strip at the top is the tell:

I outlined the horizontal strip on the curtain and then drew lines on the dips in the fabric so you can compare it to the OG photo:

Paul is utilizing an interesting run-and-gun style of camera shooting here, he's got John tilted and at an angle that puts John over Paul. Unconsciously signaling something? Let's move on...

According to this strip...

...this is the next photo in the sequence:

Again calling attention to more interesting details here:

John's tie is missing and his shirt is undone. And that looks like a towel in his hands. He's turning in for the night.

2. John is standing in front of a reinforced door which are common in hotels but are not common in dressing rooms:

3. This photo is itself a reflection of John's face that Paul has taken in a mirror, maybe a vanity mirror. Someone in the McLen discord server said it was too small to be a vanity mirror and I'm inclined to agree, so maybe it's a compact or hand mirror propped up on the sink.

So what does this mean? I think that John and Paul were getting ready for bed, someone knocked on the door, and John went to answer it. You'd think Paul would but for some reason he didn't. Oh and another thing...check out the four jackets in the mirror:

They're definitely hanging from something so John and Paul were looking out for the suits that night.

Next in the sequence, John is back at the sink washing up. Check out the hotel window curtain being reflected in the mirror there!

Then something kind of odd happens...John is seen coming back and re-entering the shot again? Through out Eye of the Storm Paul emphasizes a lot of duality with John, including a shot where John reflects on his own sculpted face. Paul was very interested in John doing performing the act of reflection on his own face:

But here's the really interesting bit and what makes me think Paul was naked in a bathtub when he took these last two photos:

Y'all, that's the fluffy fringe of a towel! You can tell that the threads are hanging down from it! These are very different from the clean lines of the curtain or the medicine cabinet or even the lines of their suit jackets! Paul was sitting in or on the edge of the bath tub when he took these photos of John! He wrapped a towel around his camera to protect it from getting wet! Cameras are generally made for right handed people so when Paul had his finger on the button on the right hand side. That means Paul keeping his finger on that button pushed the edge of the protective towel over the lens!

So I submit to you Paul McCartney's Eye of the Storm, where he submitted a film strip where he was staying in a hotel room with John and was most likely nude and bathing when he took John's photographs! Someone knocked on the door to get their attention while Paul was naked so John answered the door for them, while Paul followed him a little. John was enjoying having Paul right there for him too:

PLEASE get Eye of the Storm, it's such a great book and there's so much in it. Paul lets the pictures speak for themselves and wow they have one hell of a story to tell!

@perasperaadastratoday

[narrycherries]

ivy: and now I’m covered in you..

she can’t seem to keep herself out of trouble and it irritates him more than it should

(part 4)

masterlist / ivy series

word count: 14.3k

warnings/tags: harry x fem oc, alcohol use, angst, enemies to lovers

The small weekend getaway came quicker than Ivy anticipated it would. She had three weeks to mentally prepare for literally anything that was possible. Would she have a perfect weekend with no rude comments or harsh death glares, or would she feel the wrath of someone in particular’s attitude? She wasn’t sure, but she hoped she would be able to enjoy her time away. For the rather short car ride, she made sure to pack her current diary so she could jot down her thoughts if things become too chaotic in her mind.

Ivy mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ to Niall as he grabbed her bag from her and tossed it in the trunk of his car.

“Got everything?” Emma asked just as Ivy grabbed the car door to get in.

“Yeah, I triple checked.”

Unfortunately for her, all the preparation she did to ensure herself that she’d be able to handle any situation that occured within the group was pretty much wasted. Emma told her that Niall insisted they carpool, and that they ride with him. That part wasn’t the issue, of course, it was the fact that someone else would be joining them. When Ivy opened the back door and quietly got in the car, she felt a pair of cold eyes looking her way.

Harry offered up the front seat to Emma, which led him to the back with her. He wasn’t necessarily thrilled with the arrangement either, but he could easily get over it, unlike Ivy. She was already feeling the nervousness building in her gut, threatening to spill out of her mouth and empty her stomach contents. No amount of preparation could have prepared her for this. She hadn’t been this close to him before, the table at the restaurant was much wider than the space between them in the car. Thankfully, Niall placed Emma’s rolled up throw blanket in the middle, securing the separation between them.

“Alright. Let’s hit the road.” Niall said with a sigh as he shut his door and quickly adjusted his rear view mirror.

Ivy had her small tote bag resting on her lap, it was filled with a few essential things along with some random things to keep her occupied in the car and during downtime at the hotel. She wanted to grab her diary already, they hadn’t even left the neighbor yet, and spill her guts out onto the pages. The radio was quietly buzzing in the car as Niall and Emma chatted amongst themselves about the directions. She was glad it wasn’t completely silent, and she was even more appreciative of the fact nobody was trying to make conversation with her.

She opted to let her eyes stare mindlessly out of the window as Niall navigated through the city. So far, she was content with his driving and she wasn’t feeling any sort of motion sickness from riding. Maybe this would be better than she first thought. As long as she was able to stay calm and focused on everything but the person next to her, then she’d be perfectly fine.

Thirty minutes into the drive, Ivy decided that she needed to busy herself with a task before she got the chance to get lost in her thoughts. She reached into her bag and pulled out the small book she had been using as a diary the past few weeks. She wrote an awful lot, so she filled books quickly. Her newest choice was a travel sized spiral bound notebook with a thick front cover decorated with a few random stickers she had. She clicked the pen, flipping to the page where she left off last. She wasn’t concerned with writing neatly, so she just held it in her opposite hand as she started to write.

Words were coming naturally to her, her thoughts filling the page so easily. This book just so happened to be slap full of inserts that pertained to Harry. They weren’t her thoughts of infatuation and obsession, but instead it was the worry and anxious ideas that lined the pages. After a few lines, she paused on the writing and decided to doodle a small flower in the lower corner of the page.

“Harry?” Niall said loud enough to catch Ivy’s attention.

She lifted her head and saw that Niall was looking in the mirror at him, but he was obviously not successful in getting him to answer. She looked over and saw that he had his arms over his chest, earbuds in his ears, and his eyes were staring out of the window. His music was loud enough for her to tell that he had it on, but she couldn’t make out anything specific.

“He’s listening to music.” She said after Niall called his name again.

He huffed. “Can you hit him? I need him to text Zayn.”

Ivy felt her throat start to swell. She had been so relaxed and calm during the drive, but it was all circling down the drain now. Niall had asked her a simple question, wanted her to do a small favor - she couldn’t act like he said something insane. She swallowed gently and pulled all of her courage together. Her heart stammered over a beat, missing it entirely, as she reached over to him. Ivy tapped her fingertip against his arm, just above his elbow. He didn’t jump or flinch, he simply turned his head to look at her. His brows were lowered, a bit of confusion on his expression. She expected him to react differently, assumed he would scream at her or ask her why she thought she could touch him.

When she pointed towards Niall, Harry dropped his eyes to his phone and picked it up from his leg, pausing his music and looking at Niall’s reflection in the mirror.

“What?” He mumbled out, not entirely pleased with being disturbed but it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“Can you text Zayn and ask them how far out they are? Cory’s driving them.”

Harry nodded, unlocking his phone so he could type. “Yeah.”

Ivy had already turned her attention back to her diary, but she was still working on the small bouquet of flowers she was drawing in the corner. It was definitely nothing artistic or perfect, just a little doodle to fill the space. She was aware of Harry’s presence again, and she didn’t want him to see her writing. After a couple of silent moments, she flipped the book shut and laid her hand over it, her curious eyes moving to the window.

“He said they’ve got like half an hour.” Harry said, his deep voice rattling through the car and cutting straight through the wall Ivy built up to avoid him.

She shifted her head enough so that she could look at him from the corner of her eye. An obvious stare would be entirely too awkward while in the car, so she stuck to her sneaky glances.

After assuming Niall didn’t want to say anything else to him, Harry turned his music back on and reverted to his previous position. Ivy found it intriguing how he was slowly moving his fingers that were tucked beneath his arm. The simple gesture was making her bite the inside of her cheek. He wasn’t even aware of it himself, yet she was focused on it like it was the most spectacular thing.

She couldn’t resist looking at the tattoos she could see living on his skin. The dark ink settled in his flesh was eye catching, she wondered if he had more she couldn’t see. While observing him from this point of view, she noticed a piercing hole in his lobe. She made a mental note to try to catch a glimpse of his other one to see if there’s a matching hole. She hadn’t noticed any earrings before, so maybe he didn’t wear them often. Her tongue poked out to coat her lips as she looked at his long eyelashes, they were resting gently on his cheek. Was he asleep? No, she didn’t think so. He just was relaxing and closing his eyes for a while. Her question was answered within a second as his eyes slowly peeled open, his gaze fixed on the window.

She moved her eyes down his frame. He was wearing a faded t-shirt with a design on the front that his arms hid from her view. He ditched his dark jeans for sweatpants, she supposed to be more comfortable during the drive. She was surprised he could appear so relaxed and normal, instead of uptight and cocky.

Ivy finally picked her eyes back up, choosing to stare at his face for a bit longer. Her eyes widened and flames burst on her cheeks as she met his eyes. She stayed like that, just staring at him, for a long moment. She wondered what he was thinking. Surely something along the lines of ‘this girl is crazy’. She felt the eruption of butterflies in her stomach, causing her to rip her gaze from his. She opted to stare at the back of the seat in front of her, embarrassed to have been caught by him. It wasn’t the first time she had been caught staring at him, and she feared it wouldn’t be the last.

He didn’t say anything to her, though. He wasn’t annoyed or irritated, he only looked her way because her stare was so intense. He could feel it on him, burning holes through him. Maybe she was just looking around the car while thinking about something and her eyes just so happened to land on him, or maybe it was purposeful - he wasn’t certain. He didn’t look away from her just yet. It was so easy to tell she was nervous. Was it because he caught her or was it because they were so close? It was most likely both. Harry ran his eyes over her, taking in her appearance and body language. She was like a statue, not daring to move one little bit. He just knew that if she looked back his way and saw he was still eyeing her down, she’d combust.

For the remainder of the drive, Ivy kept her eyes down on her notebook and Harry fixated his on the back of his eyelids. She was grateful that he had fallen asleep and couldn’t give her glances that took her breath away and made her heart race. The ride itself was calming, though. Niall and Emma didn’t talk much, just listened to the radio. Once they got to the hotel, Ivy sent Michelle a text to let her know they were there. They would be sharing a room for the weekend. The others arrived way before them and already had their room keys.

Niall popped the trunk and gestured for everyone to take their bags. Ivy reached in for hers, tugging it out of the pile and shoving the strap on her shoulder. She stepped back and accidentally brushed her bag against Harry. She didn’t notice, but he did. A light sigh came from his lips as she walked off to the door. Emma was following close behind her.

“We all should be on the same floor.” Emma said as they entered the lobby.

Ivy glanced over her shoulder. “I think so. Michelle said ours is on three.”

“Ugh. I have to wait for Niall to check in.” She groaned as Ivy headed to the elevator.

She stopped and decided to wait with Emma instead, just so she wouldn’t be by herself. Niall and Harry strolled through the door together, talking about something neither of the girls could hear. Niall went to the counter, leaving Harry to head to the elevator.

“Guess I’ll go over there.” Emma mumbled, grabbing her bag from the floor, then started the short trip to Niall.

Ivy took a deep breath as she prepared herself for what was about to come. She beat Harry to the elevator, but when she pushed the button it decided to be extremely slow. Cory was his roommate for the weekend, and he was waiting upstairs like everyone else. Harry came up behind her, his eyes fixed on the elevator door as he waited. Ivy wanted to throw up right there, just wanted to lose her mind and all control of her body. She didn’t want to be alone with him.

When the door opened, someone stepped out and gave them both a polite smile. Ivy returned it, she was sure Harry didn’t. She chose the spot closest to the control panel, hoping that Harry would wait for the next one. He didn’t do that, of course, he got on with her. He stood in the back corner, the furthest he could get from her in the small space. She pressed in the three button and glanced back at Harry, but when he didn’t say anything about a different floor, she turned her eyes back to the display of buttons.

The elevator was moving at snail speed. It felt like absolute torture. He was right behind her and there was nothing she could do to change it right now. She had to deal with it, and to be frank, she was failing at doing so. Her stomach was flipping and twisting inside of her body, her heart racing and skipping beats like she was falling from an airplane. Her feet felt like they weighed a ton as she stood still, not wanting to move any closer to him by accident.

Finally, after what felt like a torturous eternity, the elevator stopped and the door opened. Harry let her walk out first, and she did her best to get a good distance ahead of him. She didn’t know where his room was, and she didn’t necessarily care, she just had to find hers first. His strides were much longer than hers, and he was practically walking beside her down the hall. He kept space between them. It was obvious to him that she didn’t feel comfortable being so close to him, so he tried to keep the distance.

Her eyes hastily scanned over the room numbers, wishing that hers would magically appear. It seemed as though she was walking down an endless hall. Her worrying had taken over her body. In reality, her room was just a short walk from the elevator. She stopped as she found the room number, a sigh of relief escaping past her lips. She knocked on the door and waited patiently for Michelle to open it. Curiously, she turned her head to see where Harry ended up, and to her dismay.. his room just happened to be right next to hers.

A cool whiff of air made her skin crawl as Michelle opened the door, a smile on her face as she greeted Ivy with a quick hug. She grabbed her hand and pulled her inside the room.

“I haven’t picked a bed yet. I didn’t know your preference.. whether you wanted by the window or what.” Michelle said with a laugh as Ivy dropped her bag in front of the empty dresser.

“It doesn’t matter to me. I’ll take this one, I guess.” She gestured to the one closest to the window.

“Perfect!” Michelle picked her own bag off the floor and tossed it on the bed that was now hers for the weekend. “How was the drive?”

Ivy copied her, moving her bag onto the bed so she could unpack a few essential things. “It was nice. It was quiet and peaceful.”

Michelle scoffed. “Peaceful? With Niall and Harry?”

Ivy shrugged lightly as she crossed her legs on the bed. “We didn’t really.. talk or anything. I think everyone was tired.”

When she looked towards Michelle, she didn’t expect to be met with a narrow gaze and pursed lips. She didn’t look like she believed what had been said to her. Ivy tried to ignore it, maybe she was just in shock that Niall’s energetic demeanor wasn’t present during the drive.

“So.. nothing else happened with Harry?” Michelle asked curiously as she took out the ensemble she would be wearing later.

“No.. He didn’t say anything to me. It was very calm.”

“Well that’s good. Maybe he’s warming up to you.”

Michelle’s words were comical. If anything, they were more cold to each other than when they first met. Ivy didn’t want to be in the same room with him, and he didn’t seem to give a damn about her existence. She decided to let it go and not focus on the worrying thoughts right now.

“How was the drive for you?” Ivy asked, wanting to change the topic away from herself.

Michelle shook her head. “It was interesting. Cory and Zayn had some weird conversations.”

“I can only imagine. I’ve only heard a few of their stories.. but I already know they’re crazy together.”

As Michelle got up to grab one of the hotel hangers, she continued talking. “Yeah, they’re a good time, though. Hey, you missed our last show. Are you gonna come to the next one?”

Ivy swallowed as she contemplated what to say back. She purposely chose to skip the show two weeks ago. Emma begged her for days to change her mind, but she ultimately decided it would be better if she didn’t. She didn’t want to be around Harry at the time. The dinner situation had soured her feelings again, made her very confused with herself. Niall wasn’t offended by her decision, though, he assured her they would have another show soon that she could attend. She used the excuse of being overworked and wanting to relax, and it worked for the most part.

“Um, probably. I told Emma I would.” She said almost hesitantly. She didn’t want to promise something then change her mind and break it. “When is it?”

“Three weeks.” Michelle said as she fixed her outfit on the hanger and put it in the small closet. She didn’t want it to have wrinkles once it was time to get dressed.

“I’ll try to. I won’t make any other plans or anything.”

“Good! We can have a redo. Hopefully everything will go perfectly.”

Ivy let out an unamused laugh. “Yeah.. hopefully.”

“Zayn and Alyssa are across the hall, by the way. And Cory and Harry are next to us.” Michelle said as she glanced down at her phone, a text coming through. “And looks like Niall and Emma are a few rooms down.”

Ivy didn’t say, just gave her a nod when Michelle looked over at her. She felt a sting in her stomach as she realized Harry was on the other side of the wall she was staring at. What was he doing in there? Was he catching up with Cory, was he unpacking his clothes, was he laying down to finish the nap he took in the car? She found herself really lost in wondering what he could be up to. If she knew anything for sure, it was that this was going to be a long weekend.

—•—

Michelle was humming quietly to herself as she stared at her reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall, checking to see if her makeup looked good. Ivy looked at her from the bathroom doorway, she had just finished applying her makeup and putting her jewelry on.

“You look great.”

Michelle smiled and turned to face her. “Thanks. So do you, hot stuff!” She waved her hand in front of her face, pretending to faint.

Ivy rolled her eyes and walked out of the bathroom, a shy smile on her lips as she grabbed the small purse she brought along to carry. It was on a gold colored chain that she could put over her body, keeping the bag close to her. She caught a glimpse of her reflection and decided to admire it for a moment. Michelle watched with a proud grin as Ivy rotated in the mirror, looking at her self in great detail. She had to make sure everything was perfect.

“This dress doesn’t make my stomach poke out too much, does it?” She asked as she started to chew on her cheek.

Michelle moved to be next to her, her eyes landing on their reflections. “You look great.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I don’t think it draws attention to your stomach at all. It’s not too tight, not too loose. It’s very flattering on you.” Michelle explained further, hoping she would help the anxiety disappear.

“And the color? Dark green isn’t.. ugly on me, is it?”

Michelle examined the dark green fabric of the dress, noting how nice it looked against her skin and with her hair. “It’s hot. Makes your eyes pop. You look good.”

Ivy took a deep breath and very slowly pushed it out. “Thanks.”

“You worry too much.” Michelle playfully pinched her elbow. “You’re gorgeous.”

“I.. I don’t know about that.” Ivy mumbled back as she gently pushed her hair over her shoulder, exposing the thick strap of her dress. She thought the dress was nice, so hearing that Michelle believed the same was reassuring. “I just get.. nervous.”

“No need to be nervous, trust me. You’re glowing, darling.” Michelle gave her a laugh and a quick hug, wanting her to feel better about her appearance.

Michelle left her side to put her shoes on, leaving Ivy to stare at herself alone. She felt her throat go dry as she twisted her body from side to side, kicking her leg out gently and posing for herself. She wasn’t as confident as she wanted to be right now. Michelle eyed her the whole time, and it was obvious that Ivy wasn’t pleased.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Michelle said as she stayed perched on the foot of the hotel bed.

“Yeah.”

“Why do you think you’re not hot? Like.. I can tell you want to love the way you look right now.. but something’s stopping you.”

Although Emma was a very close friend, she had never asked anything like that before. Emma was always so supportive and did her best to hype Ivy up. Michelle seemed more interested in solving the problem. Ivy let out a quiet laugh and turned away from the mirror, opting to stare at her own feet instead.

“Well.. there’s gotta be something wrong with me.” She shrugged, a nonchalant expression taking over her face.

Michelle frowned and stood up, immediately going to grab her elbows to get her attention. When Ivy lifted her head up to look at her, she could tell something was wrong. It went farther than the fit of a dress. There wasn’t much Ivy could do to escape this, so she just stayed silent and waited for Michelle to say something.

“What do you mean?”

Ivy licked her lips, her eyes trailing off to stare at the wall behind Michelle. “I don’t know.. I must be.. not attractive.”

“Why are you saying that? Has someone told you that before?” Michelle was quick with her responses, not wanting to give the impression that she didn’t care to listen.

“No, but.. do you see a man here?” Ivy looked around, lifting her brows as the weighted thoughts began to come out of her mouth. “I’m obviously not.. attractive enough to be someone’s girlfriend.”

Michelle felt her own heart sink at the words that left her mouth. “Ivy, don’t say that. You’re literally so beautiful. Any decent guy would see that. You’re a prize. You’re sweet and funny and kind.. on top of being gorgeous.”

She shook her head and tried her best to compose herself, she didn’t want to cry and ruin her makeup. She spent too long getting ready to have it all smudged. Michelle released her arms, but didn’t move back. Ivy wondered why it was so important to Michelle, why did she care so much?

“I don’t really want to talk about it anymore.” She mumbled under her breath, turning away from Michelle entirely. She was aware of the time and knew they had to meet the others in the lobby soon. “We should go.”

Michelle wanted to keep the conversation going, but she didn’t want to cross any lines or press any wrong buttons. Ivy clearly didn’t want to discuss any more, so she was going to respect that. She thought maybe she could carry it on when they got back, or even tomorrow while they were alone in the room. Right now wasn’t the time.

When they got to the lobby, almost everyone was waiting in a small huddle. Zayn and Alyssa were the only ones not downstairs. As soon as Emma laid her eyes on Ivy, she squealed and ran over to her, excitedly hugging her like they’d been apart for months. She complimented her outfit and raved about how perfect she looked, which warranted a shy shake of the head from Ivy. Michelle added a few comments to further empower her, making sure to give her a bright smile. She was grateful for the kind words and she hoped they would remain in her head for the rest of the night. She wasn’t going out to purposely hunt for a man, she just wanted to have fun with everyone.

Once Zayn and Alyssa finally joined them, they headed out of the door. The place they were going was just a few short blocks away, and everyone agreed on walking there. Taking a cab back to the hotel later that night would most likely be everyone’s decision, but for now they were fine with walking together. Niall made a comment about Emma and Ivy wearing heels, but they both assured him they were perfectly fine. Other than that, everyone either kept to themselves or made small talk as they walked down sidewalks and crossed roads, zigzagging through the area.

Ivy was well aware that she was walking in front of Harry, and that nobody was walking behind him. Their group had to form a line when they got to the busier sections of the area, not wanting to be in anyone’s way as they passed through. She wasn’t sure how she ended up behind Michelle, but she was somewhat glad that she wasn’t at the very end. Although she was comfortable and confident in her heels, they did make her walk just a tad bit slower than normal. Just as they were about to reach a corner where they needed to turn, her phone buzzed in her small purse. She furrowed her brows and pulled it out, unsure of who was texting her. It was a message from her dad asking if she was still planning on going to see him next weekend. She was typing up a reply, a smile on her face as she stared at the screen. She hadn’t seen her dad in a few weeks, he had been so busy with work, so she was excited for the plans they had made. The moment she pressed the send button, she felt her weight shift and a shriek flew from her mouth.

Before she could fall and hurt her ankle or scrape up her exposed skin, something grabbed onto her and tugged her the opposite way, steadily her body on the sidewalk. She looked down and saw the curb, she was extremely close to stepping off it and falling into the road. When she turned her head to look next to her, her heart started to pump faster than it ever had before.

Ivy was met with a stern glare from a set of familiar green eyes. He had his lips in a straight line, his brows tight on his forehead. She quickly licked her lips and tried to speak, but he interrupted her before she could even take a breath.

“Watch where you’re walking.” Harry said through a huff as he finally released the pressure his hand created on her arm.

She swallowed the lump that was trying to stop up her throat. “Sorry, thanks.”

He gave her a weird look. “Why are you apologizing? Just pay attention.”

Ivy couldn’t verbally respond, something inside of her was preventing that from happening. She could only nod and give him a soft smile, which he didn’t return in any way. He gestured for her to start walking again to catch up with the others, they had already turned the corner. She got the gist and began walking again, this time with her phone tucked away in her purse and her eyes fixed on what was ahead of her. Harry’s presence stayed behind her, close enough for her to sense him, but far enough to keep a distance. He didn’t want to run into her if she decided to distract herself again.

—•—

Ivy was slightly overwhelmed by the thick crowd of people they ended up being stuck in the middle of. She made sure to stay close to everyone else to prevent getting lost or swept away by a sea of people. The event space was much larger than the bar they had her in weeks ago, but that definitely didn’t mean there was any free standing room anywhere. She felt a little bit of suffocation, but she hoped the drink in her hand would ease her nerves.

Niall was yelling over the music at Michelle and Alyssa, trying to explain something to them but Ivy really couldn’t hear him. She kept her eyes to herself, not wanting to accidentally find herself staring at anyone. Emma was already swaying her hips side to side to the music, bumping into Ivy every now and then. She wanted to get comfortable and enjoy the music, too, but she was still too nervous. So, she just sipped her drink and waited patiently for it to kick in.

The band wasn’t supposed to come for another fifteen minutes, they had been there for half an hour already. Niall’s hand was clutching a beer, Cory and Zayn started off with two shots each. Ivy noticed while they were at the bar earlier that Alyssa didn’t get anything. Maybe she wasn’t big on drinking. The rest of them got something to start the night with.

“I love this song!” Emma yelled happily, grabbing Ivy’s hand as she jumped up and down. She just laughed and gave her a nod, not as enthused by the music as Emma was. “Dance with me!”

“Maybe later!” She yelled back, lifting her drink to indicate she’d need another, or possibly three before she could let loose.

Emma groaned, but decided to not let it drag her mood down. She turned to Niall, pulling him from his conversation and forcing him to somewhat dance with her. He was mostly just nodding his head and grinning at her. Michelle was starting to vibe with the music, facing towards Alyssa in an attempt to get her to join. She soon did, leaving Zayn to talk with Cory and Harry.

Harry.. Of course she hadn’t forgotten about him. She made a few quick glances at him since they arrived, but she tried her best to mind her business. She was afraid something would be said, that same old feeling she gets when she’s around him. It was almost too natural of a feeling. But she couldn’t really resist the temptation, especially since he was so close to her. He was leaning in to Cory and Zayn when he spoke so they could hear him over the loud music. He put a smirk on his lips and laughed a few times, making Ivy’s heart skip a beat.

She thought he looked rather well put together tonight. His hair was a bit messy from the gentle breeze during the walk over, but it still looked so perfect. He was wearing his usual dark jeans, paired with a pair of black boots with a short heel, and a blue shirt. The sleeves were purposely rolled and pushed up to his elbows, his tattoos on display for anyone’s lingering eyes. She even caught a whiff of his cologne while they were walking, when he caught her, and she thought it was nice. Her teeth bit down on her cheek as she looked at his chest, some of his skin exposed from the undone buttons. She thought it was an interesting look, but it fit his style well. He was as eye catching as ever.

It was so easy for her to get lost in him. She tore her eyes away, looking towards Emma but she was fully caught up with Niall and not worried about anything else. That feeling of being the odd one out was building in her gut. Everyone was accompanied by someone except her.

Ivy’s attention fell to her drink. She shook the cup, watching the ice swirl in the liquid. She should’ve gotten something stronger. She huffed to herself before taking a drink. Maybe if she drank it faster it would work better. The thought of Harry had quickly faded from her mind, the new worry of being alone was taking over entirely. It was hard to not feel like she didn’t belong. Even though this isn’t the first time she’s been around everyone, she still didn’t know them as well as they knew each other. Sure, she could spark up a conversation would Zayn if she wanted to, but what if he was responding just to be polite? The idea of them pretending to like her was difficult to ignore. She didn’t want to be so anxious about it and let those crazy thoughts run wild, but it was almost impossible to stop it once it begins.

Time slipped by while Ivy stayed to herself. There was an announcement that the band was about to come on the stage on the other side of the room. It was much larger than the theater-turned-club stage she watched them perform on. This was definitely a much bigger venue with a more serious act taking stage. Niall yelled something about trying to get closer, which prompted Emma to take Ivy’s hand. As a group, they navigated through the crowd. Not everyone was turned towards the band, so it was easier to slide through.

They didn’t get right up on the stage, but they weren’t far. Emma let go of her hand once they were settled in a space. She was excited about the show and hoped that it would make her forget all the things filling her head. Before long, the band filed onto the stage and started their set. Emma made sure to stay next to her, which she appreciated immensely. She was sort of worried about being knocked over or pulled from the group by people shoving their way through. Nobody seemed to be pushing around just yet, though.

For the most part, the experience was very fun and positive for Ivy. The worry she had suffered through was far gone now. She was enjoying the music and knew most of the songs they were doing. She danced and cheered through their original songs, as well, not carrying that she hadn’t heard them before. It was exhilarating to just jump around and throw her hands up in the air. She had successfully pushed down all those anxious thoughts and emotions that were bothering her. She felt happy and free, like nothing could stop this high.

Niall and Cory offered to make a run to the bar for everyone, so she gladly threw in her drink order. She was definitely feeling the buzz of the alcohol creeping through her veins, and she was craving more of it. As soon as they returned, she started drinking from the new plastic cup. Her hips never stopped moving to the music, Emma grabbing her every now and then to dance together.

Everything was going well, it almost seemed too good to be true. Ivy kept her focus on the band, not caring what was going on around her aside from Emma. Niall had her attention now though, so Ivy was dancing along to the music on her own. She was so into the moment that she didn’t realize she was moving around so much, until she backed into something that stopped her.

She turned slightly to apologize to the random person she hit, but she audibly gasped and her eyes went wide. Harry was standing there, a gentle lift of his brow served as his response.

“Sorry!” She yelled over the music, her stomach dropping as she realized he had been behind her while she was dancing.

He rolled his eyes and gave her a nod, instantly shifting his stare back to the stage. She was unsure of how long he had been behind her, the last time she checked he was over by Zayn and Alyssa, the complete opposite side of the space their lot was taking up. There was no need to worry over it, she shook it from her mind and continued where she left off.

Emma squealed and immediately dropped Niall’s hands to turn to Ivy. The band was doing another cover, and this time it was one of their favorite songs to karaoke together. Ivy let out a laugh as Emma grabbed onto her waist and pulled her close. Niall shook his head and just chuckled at them, letting them have their moment together.

The girls were extremely expressive as the Joan Jett song blasted through the room. They were both impressed by the band’s performance of the song, and they showed their support by singing and dancing along. With every whip of Ivy’s head from side to side, her hair swung in the air. Emma was practically screaming the lyrics out, feeling like she was on another planet. If they did anything right together, it was have the time of their lives.

Once the song ended, Ivy had to catch her breath. She shook her head when Emma tried to make her keep on, the next song was just as good. She couldn’t handle it right now, she was out of breath and her throat hurt from all the screaming. Emma chose to focus on Niall again, forcing him to dance now, leaving her to collect herself.

Even though she craved water, she didn’t dismiss the drink in her hand. Somehow, most of the liquid managed to stay in the cup. She took a big guzzle, aiming to coat her mouth with the cold feeling to soothe it. The effects of the alcohol were the least of her worries. As much as she loved to dance and sing with Emma, she was worn out already. A good ten or so minutes of staying idle would do her some good.

A grunt pushed past her lips as she felt her stomach twirl around. Maybe she shouldn’t be jumping around so much while there’s alcohol roaming in her body. She pressed her hand to her stomach, taking a few slow breaths to try and calm herself. The last thing she wanted to do was throw up. Thankfully, after a few more minutes of staying still and focusing on settling herself down, her stomach stopped aching and she felt much better.

The feeling didn’t stick around very long, though. She was nodding her head to the music, enjoying the current song the band was playing, when someone started pushing their way through the crowd. Ivy’s eyes were locked on the band as she peeked between all the heads in front of her to get a good look at them. She didn’t notice that someone was trying to get by.

She jumped the second she felt a hand on her waist. Her body was pushed to the side, the person trying to get by then easily walked past her. Her instincts kicked in and she realized someone was actually touching her. She grabbed the wrist of the hand and pushed it down, her nails scratching into skin. When she turned to scream at the stranger she assumed she’d see, her mouth went dry and her lips fell part, no words coming out. Harry gave her an irritated look, glancing down at his now scratched hand.

“You were in the way.” He told her loudly, forcing his voice over the music.

She swallowed gently. “I.. I didn’t know.”

Harry gave her a sarcastic gasp. “Obviously.”

Ivy wanted to be more confident in herself than she had managed to be all day, so she quickly gave it back to him. “You’re so rude.”

“Says the one who was in the damn way.” He lifted the corner of his mouth, amused by her comeback.

She rolled her eyes at him and turned back around, hoping to forget that he was there. There was an angry feeling sparking up in her gut. How could someone show such arrogance over a simple situation? She could have thanked him for moving her aside so she wouldn’t get shoved, but she figured he didn’t care about her gratitude. And more than that, he didn’t deserve it.

After another hour, the band had finished their set and everyone agreed that they’d stay a bit longer and enjoy the night. Some of the crowd had disappeared, leaving the place easier to navigate through, but it was still a good number of people around. Ivy went with Emma and Michelle to the bathroom, separating themselves from the others. They joined the short line that was waiting inside. Ivy let a deep breath push through her nose as her body leaned against the wall. She didn’t care about the sanitary conditions of the bathroom, she had other things on her mind.

Michelle took notice and gently nudged her. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and licked her lips quickly. “Nothing.. just got a little sick to my stomach earlier.”

“Do you feel sick?” Emma frowned back.

Ivy shrugged, even though she knew the feeling was more because of anxiety than sickness, she didn’t want to tell them what had happened. She was sure nobody noticed, they were all so distracted by everything going on around them. The less she talked about Harry, the easier it was to imagine it was all fake. She didn’t want him to be there, she didn’t want him to exist in her life, she didn’t want to keep those small moments alive in her mind. Why did he have to be walking behind her on the sidewalk, why was he so close to her while the band was playing, why did he care if someone pushed her over or not? Why was he so worried about her, and why did she let it bother her so much?

“No, I think I was just doing too much earlier.. with the dancing. I’m okay now.” She assured them with a quick smile.

“Okay, if you say so.” Emma didn’t seem to believe it, but she wasn’t going to stress her out by prying. “If you feel like you wanna leave.. let me know and we can head back.”

“Yeah, I’ll go with you, too, if you want.” Michelle reached up and casually pushed Ivy’s hair over her shoulder. “Especially if you feel sick.”

“Thanks.. but I’m pretty sure I’m okay right now.”

They didn’t have to wait very long to get into a stall. Once they were all done, they left the bathroom together. Ivy thought about stopping by the bar for some water, but she didn’t want to cause an inconvenience. Maybe one of the guys would offer to go to the bar for everyone and she could take advantage of that.

The girls made their way back to where they left Niall and Cory. Zayn and Alyssa had gone off to be on their own and Harry was nowhere around. Emma kept an eye on Ivy to make sure she wasn’t getting sick. She made sure to tell Niall that they might possibly have to leave earlier than planned if something happened. Ivy overheard them talking and she assured Niall she was fine.

It didn’t take long for Emma and Michelle to start moving to the music again. Emma grabbed Ivy’s hand and playfully shook her arm around, trying to get her to participate. She gave them a laugh and joined them, but she kept her feet grounded. The jumping was too intense earlier, she needed to stay more relaxed. The music playing through the speakers was good, they all seemed to enjoy it.

The chaotic scene of the club was enough to keep her mind off of things for a while. She swayed side to side to the music, occasionally grabbing onto Emma to belt out lyrics with her. After a while, the need for something to drink was weighing on her, making her throat dry and her head start to spin. Ivy tapped Emma’s shoulder to get her attention, she was talking to Niall about something as a slower song was playing.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going? Are you feeling bad?” Emma’s brows dropped and she frowned, instantly worried for her friend.

Ivy smiled and shook her head. “No, just thirsty.”

“Oh.. okay!”

Niall leaned closer so he could talk over all the noise. “Be careful.”

“I will. I’ll be right back!”

With a sigh, she walked off from them, heading towards the bar. As she made her way there, she let herself reflect on the night’s events. All the dancing and singing was so joyful and exciting, she was grateful for the fun experience. Everyone was getting along, nothing too crazy had occurred. Sure, she had a few incidents with Harry, but nobody else was a witness to them that she was aware of. Knowing that made it sort of easier to deal with. She didn’t have to worry about whether or not they would get irritated with her, too. She was glad the moments she had to share with him weren’t full of hateful comments or rude looks like the previous ones had been. He wasn’t necessarily the sweetest person tonight, but at least he was better than normal.

For once in her life, she actually felt like she belonged within a group. Those unsure worries about whether they liked her or not had faded. Most of them had proved they did enjoy her company, and she definitely enjoyed theirs. The dynamics of the group were so different, everyone had their own personality and somehow they all merged together well. Harry was sort of an outlier, but only when it came to Ivy. He was perfectly fine with everyone else.

When she finally got to the bar, she let out a sigh of relief. There was an open stool at the end and she gladly took it. The bartender noticed her and gave her a lift of his finger, indicating he’d be over to her in a minute. She just smiled back and waited patiently. She folded her hands on the bar, looking down at her painted nails. The red polish shifted colors beneath the colored lights.

Ivy covered her mouth as she yawned, a tired feeling creeping into her body. She knew she didn’t want to be the one to make everyone go back to the hotel early, so she’d just have to push through it and wake herself up. The bartender came over to her, smiling as he asked how he could help her. She asked for a cup of ice, an awkward confession of how she wasn’t feeling the best followed her request. He gave her a laugh and said he understood the feeling.

“It’s on me! Take care of yourself.” He said as he passed her the plastic cup full of ice cubes.

“Oh, thank you!”

Ivy twisted the stool around so that she could prop her elbow on the bar and look out at the dancing crowd. Some people were just standing around talking or laughing, but most of them were doing some form of dancing. She tipped the cup back, a piece of ice falling into her mouth. She let it sit on her tongue for a few moments, slowly melting as the warmth of her mouth engulfed it. The feeling was calming, she felt like she was recovering already. The plan was to sit for a few minutes and eat a couple pieces of ice, then she’d go back to where she left from.

When she finished her second piece, she reached into her purse to grab her lip gloss. She could feel the dryness of her lips and had to take care of that. Her phone acted as a mirror while she applied the gloss over her lips, fully coating each of them. She rubbed them together, then smiled at herself to make sure nothing spread past the line of her lips.

“You didn’t miss a spot.”

Ivy quickly pulled her phone down and turned her head, her eyes meeting those of a stranger. It was a man with dark hair, he was tall with broad shoulders. A smile shaped his mouth, a set of shiny white teeth popping out behind his lips.

She gulped gently and let out a slightly nervous laugh. “Yeah, I guess not.”

He let his eyes quickly roam over her body. She kept her stare on his face, watching every move he made closely. That anxious feeling she fought off so often was returning, but even she knew that it was for a real reason this time.

“Are you not drinking tonight?” He asked, nodding his head to the cup of ice. The question was posed in a way that made it seem like he knew her so well.. like he was surprised she wasn’t drinking.

She went along with it, just to prevent anything drastic from happening. “Um, taking a break for right now.”

“If you want to end that break, I could get a drink.” The cocky smirk he put on for her was not pleasing to her eyes.

Ivy sucked on the inside of her cheek for a moment as she glanced at her ice cubes. “I think my break will last the rest of the night.”

He gave her a very slow nod, his eyes moving away from her for the first time since he approached. He shifted his weight, looking past her at the person next to her on the stool. Maybe he thought she didn’t know that person, since it didn’t seem like she was making a point to give them any attention. A thousand thoughts started to fill her mind as she started to consider all the different ways this could play out. She took a mental note of what he was wearing, just in case. It was a burgundy collared shirt with a pair of dark wash, loose fitting jeans. He dressed like any other guy, which made him blend in too easily.

“So, are you here with someone?” He finally asked, lifting his brows as he moved his eyes back to her face.

She was quick to contemplate lying or not. If she said she was here with a man, and this person had been watching her, then he’d know that wasn’t true. If he just saw her at the bar and not any other time tonight, then maybe she could get away with it. The thing was, she didn’t know what he knew about her. She was nervous that he had been watching her and was waiting for an opportunity.

Ivy pushed down the lump in her throat and remained confident, not wanting him to see that she was becoming afraid. “With a group of friends, yeah.”

“Oh, friends?” He said, looking around at the people who clearly didn’t know her. Nobody had interacted with her since she got to the bar, aside from him.

“Yeah.” She kept her reply short and simple, hoping he’d get the point.

Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case. He leaned closer to her, his hand reaching out to touch her waist. She stiffened on the stool, her back straight as she tried to keep her distance. His hand wasn’t gripping her tight, but it was definitely pressed against her.

“Let me get you a drink.” He said with a chuckle, trying to play like he was flirting but she knew it was something more dangerous.

She gently shook her head and lifted her hand between them. “No, thanks. I’m not.. drinking anymore.”

He gave her a look that made her skin crawl. “Don’t want to have some fun with me?”

“Um, I should.. get back to my friends.” She said with a fake smile, pushing against his chest to move him.

At first he didn’t budge, but after a moment he leaned back, his hand falling from her side. “C’mon, don’t be so uptight. Let me show you a good time.”

The very second he took a step back, she saw the opportunity to escape. Ivy slid off the stool, abandoning her cup of ice on the bar, and started hastily walking away. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw that he pushed himself off the bar and started walking in the same direction. Her stomach dropped as she quickly came to terms with what was happening. There was nothing she could do other than run through this crowd and make it to Emma.

Ivy darted her eyes around, trying to find familiar things she made sure to take notice of when she walked off. She had to find her way back somehow, but it seemed her tricks weren’t working. The anxiety flooding through her body was shielding her memory - she couldn’t think of anything else. Her lungs felt heavy as she pushed through the crowd, trying her best to find Emma or Niall or somebody she knew. Maybe she’d run across Zayn, she hadn’t seen him in a while. She was getting sick to her stomach, its contents threatening to come up.

She took another look behind her, and even through the people she moved past, she saw him. His eyes were scanning around, searching for her as she weaved through the dancing bodies.

The mix of colorful lights flashing all around the space was making it difficult for her to make out anything. She thought she was losing her mind, she couldn’t focus on anything. Strangers’ faces littered the room, she couldn’t find anyone she recognized. How long could she out run him? How big was this building? Would she be able to seek refuge in the women’s restroom or would he disregard any barriers and search for her there? Could she make it back to the front where the security guard was? Her feet were starting to feel weak as the worry spiraled in her mind. She was going to get hurt, she just knew it. The night had been going so well, something just had to ruin it like always.

Ivy suddenly broke through the edge of the crowd, making her stumble over her own feet. Her body shook with each desperate pant, her lungs trying so hard to stay strong. She twisted her head around, trying to find something to shelter herself. She saw no kind of doors to slip into, the restrooms were on the opposite side as was the entrance. She didn’t even know where she was.

Tears swelled in her eyes as she decided to keep walking, trying to throw him off her tracks. Maybe if she cut back into the crowd and went a different direction, she could lose him entirely. She nervously walked on the edge of the crowd, mumbling quiet excuse me’s that nobody heard. She kept her eyes on alert, trying to find one of the people she knew. It was like everyone had disappeared.

Ivy let out a delicate whimper as she felt tears slide down her cheeks. She was terrified to stop walking, to turn around. She feared he would be there to grab her again, and this time he’d force his way to what he wanted. She reached into her purse, digging out her phone to try and make a call to someone. She had one bar of service, and she wasn’t sure if the others had any at all. She tried to call Emma, but it went to voicemail as if her phone was dead. Her hand was shaking so hard she almost dropped her phone. She was so afraid that she completely thought over the idea of calling Niall. The phone ended up back in her purse, and her eyes moved over her shoulder.

Her stomach churned as she saw him further back. He had lost sight of her for a minute, and it caused their distance to grow. He was determined to find her, and she was absolutely horrified. She had never been in a situation like this. She almost always stayed with Emma when they went out. She never strayed away like that, especially in a place she’d never been to before.

Just as she was about to slip back into the sea of people, she spotted someone she recognized. Of course, it wasn’t the best option out of everyone she knew, but it was better than nothing. She quickened her pace and aimed straight for him. It was Harry, pulled away from the crowd with his hand on a woman’s hip. He was clearly occupied and enjoying the company he had. Ivy wasn’t necessarily focusing on what he was doing, but she saw how a smirk was stuck to his lips as he listened to whatever the woman was saying to him.

Ivy practically threw herself on him, her hands grabbing onto his arm instantly. The woman he was holding smacked her lips and said something to him, but Ivy didn’t care to listen. Harry tried to shake her off, and after a few seconds she let him go, but she didn't move away.

“Ha-Harry.” She choked on his name, quickly shooting her eyes over her shoulder to see if he was near.

“Go away.” Harry grunted, giving her an annoyed expression. He was still holding onto the woman, so he guided her a few feet away, trying to get away from Ivy.

“Harry.” She said his name again, this time louder.

The woman didn’t appear to like that he was attracting attention that wasn’t from her. She told him to forget it and rolled her eyes as she turned away from him.

“What the fuck do you want?” He threw his hands in the air as he moved to face Ivy, who he was very irritated by.

“Please just act like you know me for five minutes!” She whined out, her eyes pleading with him.

That’s when he noticed she was crying, but he was confused. “Huh?”

“Please!” She yelled back, her hand reaching up to grab onto his shirt. She didn’t even realize she was doing it.

Harry just stared at her a moment, then looked down to where she was fisting his shirt. “What’s wrong with you?”

“There’s.. there’s a guy following me and.. I’m scared.” She looked past her shoulder again, then quickly back to him. “Harry, please.”

He moved his eyes behind her, trying to see if he could figure out what she was looking at. “Following you? What happened?”

For the first time since they’ve met, she could tell he was sincere with his concern. He leaned his head down so he could hear her over the music. Her wet eyes looked over his features as she tried to gather her thoughts. Everything was happening so fast. His green eyes were softened as he fixed them on her, and his brows were furrowed as he waited for an answer. This is when she realized she was clutching his shirt. She nervously looked down at her hand, then released her grip on him. He didn’t say anything about it, just watched her closely.

“I.. I was at the bar.. by myself.. and this guy kept bothering me.” She explained in a broken voice, her eyes searching his face for something she wasn't even sure of. She was just trying to distract herself from what was going on. “I.. I walked off and he started following me.”

“Why the fuck were you by yourself?”

She huffed. “I don’t know! I.. I couldn’t find Emma or Niall or anyone.. I-I just saw you.”

Harry let out a sigh and let his eyes linger behind her again. “What’s he wearing?”

“He’s behind me, I know he is. I saw him.”

He glanced at her, wishing she would just tell him but he understood she was afraid. “Show me.”

Ivy nodded slowly and turned her head back, once again searching for his presence behind her. And immediately she saw him, he was looking around, walking slower with his hands stuck in his pockets. He had a snarl on his face, like he was pissed off that he lost sight of her again. When she returned her eyes to Harry, he furrowed his brows tighter. It was so easy to see how terrified the girl was. As much as he acted like he usually didn’t care about anything at all, he was taking this very seriously.

“Who is it?”

“The guy right there.. by the girl with the blue dress on.”

Harry easily saw who she was referring to. He had never been in the situation where he had to do this for one of his friends, but he was smart enough to figure out the obvious solution.

“Stay close to me, alright?” The way his hand curved to fit against her waist felt more natural than it was supposed to.

She kept her eyes on his chest, staring at the cross dangling from his neck. She wanted to melt into a puddle or shoot up through the ceiling, she wanted to disappear from this place. Not only was she terrified, but she was embarrassed by the way she reacted when she found Harry. She had interrupted whatever he was up to and fell against him like he was supposed to be a hero. Of course, that was now taking over her mind and the whole bar situation was gone from her focus. Harry easily took center stage in her mind..

He kept his eyes locked on the guy, he had gotten closer already. The natural instinct to protect was present, which led to his hand sliding to the small of her back as the guy locked eyes with him. He recognized the girl he had been chasing, he was familiar with her backside. Harry didn’t dare blink as the guy stared him down.

“Is.. is he.. gone?” Ivy’s head fell back to look at Harry. She was unaware of just how close they were. Their bodies were touching, her hands were lifted between them and gently brushing his abdomen as she waited for him to answer her. “Harry..”

The quiet chirp of his name made him dart his eyes down for just a second. She had stopped crying, but her eyes were puffy and her makeup was smudged on her skin. He felt bad for the girl, she hadn’t asked for any of this to happen. She was sure he hated her guts and didn’t want to be around her, but she was grateful he was keeping her close right now. Maybe he was good at pretending to care.

“Just be quiet right now.”

His choice of words wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but she didn’t have a choice. She let her eyes fall back to his chest, maybe she could distract herself with the ink that was peeking out from beneath his shirt. She wondered what else his body hid. Was he covered from shoulders to thighs, was his back inked, what about his legs?

Ivy let out a shriek all of a sudden. “Ow!”

Harry groaned as he realized his fingers were tangled in her hair. The rings stuck on his fingers were catching pieces of her hair. He pulled his hand back, taking a few pieces with him. She felt each strand that was being plucked from her scalp.

“Why the fuck is your hair so long?” He was frustrated now.

“Ow! Stop, that hurts!” She scooped her hair over her shoulder, trying to get it away from his fingers.

“Not my fault.” He huffed out, shaking his head in disbelief at their situation.

She went quiet again, not even moving as he returned his hand to her back. He was gentle with his touches, not wanting to scare her or make her uncomfortable especially since she’s been harassed already tonight. The guy had moved to the wall, his arms crossed as he pretended to not notice her. He gave them a glance every couple of seconds, trying to catch Harry off guard but it wouldn’t work. He wasn’t going to let Ivy slip away and get harmed, no matter how much he wanted her to leave him alone.

“He’s still staring at you.” Harry felt a sting in his chest as the guy licked his lips, his eyes attached to her body. “Did you say you were here alone?”

She hesitated at first to answer. “No.. I said I was with friends.”

“Did he touch you?” Harry asked the question the very moment she pushed her curled hands into his body, she was leaning against him.

For some reason, he was feeling extremely conflicted by all of this. Was he reacting so intensely because he knew the girl? If it were a stranger, would he be this focused on handling the issue and solving her problems, soothing her worries? He didn’t know how to feel about it, all he knew was that he was pissed off someone thought they could get away with this. He didn’t have much time to ponder it, the anticipation of her answer was driving him crazy. If she said yes, he feared he would have to slam the guy’s head into the wall.

“Like.. did he grope me?” Her voice finally broke out.

Harry licked his lips and carefully nudged her chin with the side of his index finger, pushing her head back so he could see her. “Did he touch you in any way, Ivy?”

He didn’t care if he just shook her hand, if her answer was yes he was going to lose his composure. Ivy couldn’t talk back, her heart was too busy pounding in her chest. Her eyes widened as she stared at him, the sound of her name being spoken in his voice was foreign to her. She was absolutely sure that he had never said her name before, never mumbled it or even said it in front of her to someone else. Harry softened his hard stare and withdrew his touch from her chin.

“Answer me, please.” He gave her a stern lift of his brows, silently instructing that she do what he said.

She quickly nodded. “Yes.. he touched my waist.”

Harry clenched his jaw and shot his gaze to the guy who was in the same spot, as if he was waiting for her to be set free so he could take her for himself. He moved his hand to her waist and slightly squeezed her, and of course she noticed it. Her stomach filled with butterflies as he leaned even closer down to her level, even her heels didn’t make her tall enough for him.

“Stay right here. Do not move, do you understand me?” He spoke calmly, hoping that she would just listen to him.

“Yes.. I understand.” Ivy’s voice was as light as a feather.

He wasn’t too surprised that her bright, outgoing personality had fallen to such a fragile demeanor. He witnessed it at the restaurant when she grew so shy in front of him, how hesitant and timid she could get..

“Don’t move.” He repeated.

Harry dropped his arm from her body and took a step forward, but she quickly grabbed his wrist and jumped in front of him. He looked down at her with knitted brows.

“Wait! What if.. someone else..” Her voice trailed off as the endless possibilities began to fill her mind.

Harry didn’t let her stop him, though. He shewed her hand back and gave her some reassurance. “Nobody will touch you. Stay right here.”

Ivy rotated just so she could keep her eyes on Harry. The last thing she wanted was to get separated again. She bit down on her cheek as she watched Harry walk up to the guy. She saw his mouth moving, but had no clue what he was saying. Nobody cared to look at them, everyone was just dancing and minding their own business. Harry took a step closer, his height was even to the man who had chased her through the crowd.

She felt her hands shaking by her sides as Harry obviously became heated. He was yelling now, pointing his finger at the man like he was scolding a child. Ivy was curious to know what he was saying. Was he throwing threats out and telling him how shitty it was to be that way towards someone? Was he telling him he’d beat the hell out of him if he looked her way again? A thousand thoughts flew to her mind, but none were strong enough to distract her from Harry. She gasped, throwing her hand over her chest as she watched Harry shove the guy into the wall, but he withdrew hands clearly not wanting to fight.

What she didn’t know was that Harry was telling him that if he saw him look her way one more time, he’d beat the absolute hell out of him. He made sure to mention specific ways he could bury his fist into the guy’s body and face, how he could break his nose or knock a few teeth out. His ultimate goal was to terrify the guy just as much as Ivy was. Harry gave him one last push into the wall before walking away.

Her pulse increased rapidly as he quickly rejoined her, his hand reaching for her waist as a way to guide her. His skin was flushed from the yelling, his body tense and his chest tight. He was angry, more angry than Ivy had ever seen him. The look on his face beat out any irritated expression or rude glance he’d ever given her.

“C’mon.” He grumbled out, reaching down to grab her hand.

The butterflies in her stomach grew to the size of dragons as she felt his warm skin against hers. Now wasn’t the time to swoon over him, though. This was a more serious situation that she had a dire need to escape from. Harry didn’t give her any other choice, he started walking and yanked her behind him.

They navigated their way to the entrance, Harry leading her like a lost puppy through the crowd. He wasn’t being polite in any way, of course. He was ramming his shoulder into people as he walked past them and pushing past stubborn ones who wouldn’t move at all. Ivy stayed close behind him, her hand clutching his for dear life. He didn’t return her strong grip, he just allowed her to hold on to him so she wouldn’t get lost again. He had never had anyone hold his hand as tight as this girl was. It sort of amazed him, her strength was probably from the fear, but it impressed him. He’d never tell her that.

When they finally reached the entrance and made it outside, Ivy felt a weight lift off her shoulders. The breeze began to blow her hair around, the cool wind covered her skin in bumps. She felt like she had freedom for the first time. There were no more crowds, no suffocating people with sweaty skin and loud screams. There was no intense shaking of the ceiling and floor from the loud music, no more chaos..

Harry walked her away from the entrance. When he stopped and turned to face her, he felt an odd feeling in his chest. She still had a pout on her thick lips, tear stained cheeks, and wide eyes. He exhaled, licking over his lips as he stared at her for a moment longer. Finally, he released her hand and pulled his phone from his pocket.

Ivy felt a wave of nausea. It was more intense than what she experienced earlier in the night. Now that she was out in the open, able to fully comprehend everything that happened, she was feeling her body’s reaction to the anxiety. She pressed her hand over her stomach, groaning as she felt something come up her throat.

She turned away from Harry, not wanting him to witness her empty her stomach. It was coming, she could literally feel it.

“Hey, look we have a problem.” She heard his voice as he spoke to Niall on the phone, but this time it wasn’t enough to distract her..

Ivy swatted her hair over her shoulder just in time. She leaned over and started throwing up. She didn’t have time to be embarrassed. It came quickly, everything she had consumed throughout the day was out of her system. She let out a quiet grunt and wiped her hand over her mouth. The only good thing was that now she felt much better.

Harry had told Niall a brief summary of what happened, and said that it would be best if someone takes her back to the hotel. Niall said he would round everyone up and they would all leave. Ivy didn’t care what was being said on the phone, she was just staring off at nothing. Her stomach was starting to relax now, recovering from what it just went through.

“Are you alright?” Harry came up behind her, but he didn’t reach for her like he had easily done earlier. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries she had.

“Yeah.” She mumbled while twisting around to face him. “I think so.”

“First you almost break your ankle.. then you try to get drugged at the bar. How do you make it on your own?” He questioned, unable to believe that she was capable of surviving.

“I’m sorry.” She uttered out, her voice as soft as a feather. She nervously folded her arms on her chest and looked down at her feet. She felt ashamed.

“Stop apologizing.”

Ivy furrowed her brows, but kept her eyes locked on the ground. “What do you want me to say then?”

“I don’t know.”

For a second, she was just going to ignore him and go mute until Emma made it to her, but something changed. She felt that usual sense of confidence and sass enter her body. The memory of what happened at the bar that night replayed in her mind. She defended herself, but soon after the worrying began. Ivy didn’t want to worry about him anymore. He had this power over her she wanted to destroy.

“Almost tripping is one thing, but I didn’t ask to get harassed.” Her voice was at a normal level now, her tone mimicking the rude one he usually gave her. “Don’t you dare say it’s my fault.”

Harry huffed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Sounded like it.”

He pushed his hand through his hair, tugging back the long locks. “I didn’t say it was your fucking fault.”

“That’s your favorite word, isn’t it? Fuck this, fuck that, fuck everything!” She yelled back, her hands balled into fists by her side now.

He scoffed at her. “Are you trying to offend me? I couldn’t care less.”

“I’m trying to treat you like you treat me!”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Ivy could explode from the anger she was feeling. “You’re a terrible person!”

Harry let out an unamused laugh and threw his arms up. He walked off, shaking his head in disbelief, but he didn’t go far. He turned to face her again, a dumbfounded look on his face.

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be drugged in the back of someone’s fucking car right now. I think that’s me treating you fucking nicely.”

She could hardly believe she was actually arguing with him and holding her own. He used to be so intimidating and unapproachable, but not anymore. There was no more shyness or fear filling her veins. She was angry and she wanted to get it all out.

“Don’t act like you’re an angel. You treat me like you hate me! You don’t even know me.” She fired back, steam rolling out of her ears.

Harry looked towards the front entrance in time to see Niall and the others walking out, their eyes searching for them. He wanted to say more to her, but he didn’t have the time. He didn’t want anyone to overhear this conversation.

“If I hated you, I would’ve let you get hurt tonight.”

Ivy parted her lips to speak, but Emma’s voice calling out her name stopped her. Harry backed up when everyone came running up to her. He didn’t want to overplay his part. It was all quickly pushed aside.

“Ivy! Oh my god, are you okay?” Emma embraced her in a tight hug, squeezing her tight.

“I’m okay, yeah.” She breathed out, squeezing her eyes shut.

“I shouldn’t have let you go alone, I’m so sorry.”

“Emma, no.” Ivy pulled back and took hold of both of her hands. “Don’t say that.”

It was obvious that Emma wanted to cry, but she was trying to hold back the tears. The second Niall told her what happened, she felt her heart shatter. Something happening to her friend was never a good thing to think about.

Niall reached over and touched her elbow. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.. I.. threw up over there, but I’m okay.”

Emma moved to let Michelle hug her, and she quickly walked to where Harry stood. He gave her a smile when she thanked him for being there for Ivy. He didn’t say much back, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. He felt as though he didn’t do that much, really. He was just in the right place at the right time. He got her away from the guy before anything could happen. As much as he tried to convince himself it wasn’t a big deal, he was glad he was there when she needed it most.

—•—

During the night, Ivy experienced a few unsettling dreams that woke her up from her sleep. One of them was so intense that she had to get up and stand by the air conditioner, cooling her flushed face and trying to relax her body. She slept horribly. She would bet she didn’t even get three full hours. Despite it being a bad night, she didn’t wake up Michelle or call Emma to bother her. She thought about it, but she had already done so much that she believed put a damper in the trip, she didn’t want to ruin anything else.

The morning in the hotel was a lot better. She felt less stressed once she was able to get some socialization. Emma and Alyssa had came into the room to have some girl time before they all had to get ready. They didn’t have any big plans for Saturday, but there were some things everyone wanted to do. Zayn, Alyssa, and Michelle decided to go on a historic tour of a house they all found interesting while the others chose to stroll through the downtown area. Ivy had mentioned something about an art gallery she found while searching up things to do in the area. Emma was intrigued with it, so she forced Niall to go along with her. Cory and Harry tagged along, too.

As they walked down the sidewalk, Ivy let her eyes wonder in the shop windows. There was an antique store that she found interesting, perhaps she’d suggest they swing by it before they leave the area. There was a small cafe that pumped the smell of fresh baked sweets out onto the street. It was a quaint area, she found it very lovely.

When they got to the gallery, they sort of went their separate ways. Niall and Emma walked hand in hand as they observed the displayed work. Ivy decided to walk on her own. There were a variety of artists who were being showcased at the gallery. The information pamphlet they were each given when they first came in listed details about the artists. Ivy read over the paragraphs of each artist. She was very much in her element while being here. This was one of her favorite things to do. She turned the corner into the next room and quietly swallowed as she saw that Harry was the only one occupying the room.

She tried to keep her footsteps light so she wouldn’t be a disturbance. He appeared to be very focused by the painting he was standing in front of. His arms were behind his back, his hand holding onto his other wrist. He leaned forward to get a better look at the piece, but he maintained a respectful distance.

As she got closer, she could hear him mumbling to himself. She tried to ignore it as she looked at the adjacent wall’s pieces. The artist displayed in this room was more of a contemporary abstract artist. This wasn’t necessarily her favorite category of art, but she was appreciative of the person’s creativity and craft. She strolled by the collection, admiring the striking colors and shapes, but not focusing as much on a singular piece as someone was.

She hadn’t realized how close she was to Harry until she heard him more clearly. A smile toyed on her lips at his comment.

“That’s an interesting color choice. I wouldn’t do that.”

Ivy didn’t want to scare him, though she was sure he knew someone was in here even if he didn’t know it was specifically her. She took a breath and decided to be polite to him, instead of doing everything in her power to ignore his existence.

“Do you critique often?”

Harry turned his head towards her, not realizing she was speaking to him at first. He didn’t respond, just gave her a momentary stare. There was a desire inside of him that craved to burst out - he wanted to talk to her. It was difficult because he knew she didn’t like being around him. Their first impressions of each other didn’t go well, and nothing since seemed to work out either. So, he shifted his stare back to the painting.

Ivy wasn’t surprised at all by him, yet she didn’t want to give in to his game. Based on how intensely focused he was, she believed he wouldn’t behave in an aggressive way in the gallery. Now if they were elsewhere, he might would tell her to fuck off, that’s his favorite word after all..

“What’s the interesting choice you don’t like?” Her voice distributed the silence again, making him set his jaw. He wanted to be alone.

Harry studied the side of her face as intensely as he did the painting. He wondered what was on her mind. The blue of her eyes sparkled under the bright lights above them. Her lips were set in a very subtle smile as she read over the paragraph about the artist. He shifted his eyes back to the piece.

“The bright orange. It wouldn’t have been my pick.” He finally stated.

“Do you paint?”

Her quick reply made him softly sigh. He didn’t really want to conversate with her, but he purposely chose no other option.

“No, not at all. Just an observer.”

Ivy nodded slowly, opting to not say anything. She admired the painting for a few minutes, curious to know what his thoughts were. How did he interpret the piece? There were no purposeful shapes or patterns, it was completely random and abstract. Did he find anxiety in that like she did, or was he the kind of person who could understand and feel abstractness? She assumed he would walk away if she asked anything like that, so she didn’t. Instead, she reverted to the thought she’s had all day. As much as she wanted to forget last night, it was impossible.

“Thanks for last night.” She spoke a bit louder this time.

Harry smirked to himself, she didn’t catch it. “Did we do something I don’t remember?”

His cocky attitude was nothing new, and she just rolled her eyes at him. Maybe that was his way of being friendly, by sort of being a jackass with his comments. She didn’t know him well enough to decide if that was true. She was leaning more towards ‘he’s just a dick’.

“I’m serious, Harry. Thanks for helping me.” She said through a deep breath, her eyes falling from the painting. “I really appreciate it.”

He shrugged lightly. “Don’t mention it.”

“And I’m sorry for being mean to you about it. I was just overwhelmed.”

She didn’t expect him to turn towards her. She copied his movements, not sure what was next. Was he going to be nice to her for once? It was more likely that he’d snap at her. Her heart started to beat faster than normal.

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s over now. Don’t thank me and don’t apologize. You like apologizing when you don’t need to.”

Although his words were harsh, she was sort of grateful that his tone was normal. He spoke to her like he knew she was human. All she gave him in return was an understanding nod. When he rotated himself to face the painting again, she made the decision to leave him alone. She left the room and moved onto the next one. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk to her about anything, so there was no need to keep trying.

[a/n: I have been waiting forever to post this part of the series. Things are moving along now, we’re building that drama and suspense (I hope). thanks for being patient with the slow burn, it’ll be worth it I promise! More to come soon! part 5 will be like 3 where it’s necessary for the plot line. 6 and on will be juicy!! Reblog, like, tell me how you feel in the comments! <3]

taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04 4 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown n @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 7 @lizsogolden @prettygurl-2009 @sincerely-yours-marsbar r @boopookie @mypolicemanharryyy @angelbunny222 @mads3502 @harrysredroom @inlikea-coolway @matildasatellite @imaginexxharry

[moonshynecybin]

hiiiii i was gonna save this for their evil little joint bday week but i finished it and thought it would be fun to post... anyways around 2k of rosquez porn have fun i hope ya like it

“Are you Valentino Rossi?” Comes the question, sweet and eager, just to his right.

He looks over. The kid standing there is in a tight t-shirt and has a starstruck, too-big smile plastered across his handsome face. The kind of handsome Vale likes, dark hair, brown eyes, thick brows. It makes him shift on his stool, turning on the point of his elbow to face him, and open his legs a little. 

“Allora, that’s what they tell me,”

“Well,” The kid’s mouth stretches wider once he realizes he’s got Vale’s attention. He's thrilled. Perfect. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Vale ignores the question. This guy’s Italian is clumsy, thick in his mouth, and they’re at Mugello, so this is a bit strange. He raises an eyebrow and tugs on his earring, surveying him.

“You’re Spanish, no? You weren’t rooting for Lorenzo, maybe?”

The kid shakes his head, oddly confident. “No no, when I was young I liked Pedrosa, I wanted to be just like him.”

���Ah, Dani,” He says knowingly. This guy is short and Spanish, so that makes sense.

“Him, and you.” He adds on, and flushes prettily, pink on his cheeks, looking at Vale with a clean, incongruous sort of intensity. 

“Me, huh?” He stretches back and lets his eyes go half lidded, dragging up and down the kid’s body. “What's your name?”

“Marc,” he says, and brightens immediately, taking a seat next to Vale like he’s got permission, like he’s won something. He orders two shots of tequila without asking Vale what he likes. Jesus, he is young.

When he turns his overeager gaze back to Vale, a curl of hair flops into his face, bolting dark and inky down his forehead. Low light throws his cheekbones into sharp relief, and it’s striking. He's striking. Vale likes it. Marc licks his lips like it’s a habit. His hands are broad and his wrists are small, delicate, tapping jittery little patterns on the slab of the bar. His pinky is crooked, it matches Vale’s.

He takes him in.

“So, do you want to tell me why?” He asks.

“What?” Marc grins, surprised and confused and delighted.

“Tell me why.” Vale repeats, to watch the confusion deepen.

“Why, what?”

“Oh— why you like me, over Dani. And Jorge,” He adds like it’s an afterthought. It’s not.

“What, do you need an ego boost?” Marc replies, a burst of something behind his eyes, a little bit of a challenge. He laughs hard after he says it, but Vale doubts he was fully joking. 

He finds himself wanting to know how many different emotions Marc’s smile can actually be a cover for, wants to examine and catalog them, find out what he can say to crack the mask, break the seal.

He smile even wider, like he thought it was just as funny as Marc did, and makes it sleazy. It's a game, now. He loves games. Maybe Marc will be able to play.

“Ah, an insider secret for you—riding is a game of confidence. You say you’re a fan?” Marc nods fast. He leans forwards and watches Marc’s pupils blow out, more ink spilling. He wants to write a letter with it, wants to draw something. “Then of course you should want me to be confident, so I can win. You know, that would make me very happy.”

Marc holds his eyes for a moment. They spark. He bites at his lip again.

“Really? You want to know what I like about you?”

“I do.”

“Can you do me a favor first?” Marc knocks back his tequila, then looks at Vale through his lashes. Coy. He can play.

“Hm,” Vale refuses to commit. He's curious, though, in more ways than one.

Marc could ask for anything, and Vale could decide whether or not to give it to him.

“I have something for you to sign.”

That’s easy—perfect, even. Vale looks around, Marc’s hands are empty, “Where is it?”

Marc grins suddenly, flavored with victory. Vale wonders how it tastes.

“Back at my hotel room.”

Once Vale has finished laughing, they go.

*

Still eager, still young, Marc kisses him before the door is even closed. Bites at his lips while Vale tries to talk, hands hungry on his body as if Vale’s going to take off and leave in the middle of the fucking hookup. He hears a door slam and smoothly suppresses a flinch. Marc doesn't see, which is good. He has a part to play here.

“Hey hey hey, you know, I know you are not famous,” Marc chuffs out a belly laugh, jajajas against Vale’s neck at the joke. “But paparazzi, they do follow me. I don’t want my picture in the paper next to my one night stand, it could ah,” Marc nips at his earring, plays with it with his tongue, lets Vale squeeze the muscle of his ass. “Ruin my reputation.”

“Is that what I am?” Marc breaks off of the hickey he was working onto the skin behind Vale’s ear and hooks two fingers into his belt, hauling him into the room. He kicks the door shut. “A one night stand?”

“I fly out tomorrow,” Vale lies regretfully, and Marc smirks at him a little too knowingly, then drops to his knees.

“You asked me what I liked about you,” He says, working at Vale’s belt, his fly. Vale flips off his shirt, toes off his shoes.

“I did,” He starts, and Marc leans in.

When he’s got him out, he takes the head into his mouth, throat working in slick sounds as he slides further down, starts to work the base in his hand. Vale works not to moan, biting the inside of his cheek, and he thinks Marc cant tell, because he looks up at him like he would smile, if not for Vale’s cock in his mouth.

“I like that,” Marc says once he pulls off, wiping a little at his face in a prissy sort of movement. His lips are shining, a bruised, swollen red color, and there’s still some spit sloppy on his chin. He leans forward and licks at the blunt head, one broad, flat, long stroke that makes Vale’s toes curl from the power of the sensation, the vulnerability of it, and then he stays close. Speaks with his lips against the delicate, overheated skin of Vale’s dick. “Will that help you win?”

Vale catches his breath, blows out some air from his cheeks, loosely curling a hand in the mess of Marc’s curls. He feels out of sorts, off balance. Thrilled.

“Well, you know it cannot hurt,” Masking how eager he is with a joke, to lance the sensation, make it a little less keen. How bad he wants it. it’s not even new, he’s been in this position hundreds of times— it shouldn’t feel like it is. He shouldn’t need it like this, like if Marc walks out of the room he’d be taking a chunk of Vale with him.

“So, ah.” He covers, remembers what he should say. “What was it that you wanted me to sign?”

Marc giggles and stands, shucking off his clothes as he does. Smooth skin, built thighs, compact body full of muscle and scar tissue. Vale looks hungrily. His cock is hard and big, hanging between his legs.

Oblivious to Vale's eyes or pretending to be, Marc sits on the bed and gestures to his body, twirls the marker between his fingers. “Could you?” He asks sweetly, and Vale realizes that what Marc wants him to sign is himself. 

His dick throbs. This kid.

“Where?” He asks, smoothing a smooth hand over Marc’s shoulder and gently pushing him back against the bed. Marc arranges himself against the pillows easily, boyish smile huge on his face.

“Wherever you want,” And Vale kneels over him, sits back on the solid shape of his torso so he can feel Marc’s big dick twitch against him, get that feedback. Vale settles, surveys, palms himself. Marc swallows.

“I think here,” He muses, splaying his fingers like a frame and holding them above Marc’s right nipple. 

“Does that look right to you?”

“Yeah,” Marc breathes. 

He plucks the marker from Marc’s fingers, asks, “Is there anyone I should make out the message too?”

His brown eyes are wide, bottom eyelashes spiky against his cheek. Butter wouldn’t melt. “No,”

“No one? No boyfriend? Girlfriend?” He's trailing his other hand over Marc’s pecs now, pinching at his nipple to see him squirm, tease him a little. Hips buck up, rubbing his erection against Vale’s ass and blurting a wet streak of pre-come there.

“There is someone— an older guy from around here, but we haven’t slept together yet so I don’t know if he’s, how do you say it in Italian— leading me on,” Marc says impatiently, still trying to fuck up against Vale, and Vale laughs, spits, and starts to work himself in his hand.

“Okay, okay,” He uncaps the marker with his mouth and positions his other hand over the smooth skin of Marc’s chest. He signs his name, Valentino Rossi, in silver against golden skin, and Marc shudders, a full body tremor, as the nib drags over his skin in a practiced stroke. His mouth drops open, still pink from Vale’s cock, and Vale presses his thumb hard against the nipple when he finishes, and throws the marker on the floor.

"God," is dragged out of Marc like he cant help it. Vale doesn't know if he's talking to him or not. He fists himself from tip to base.

His hand picks up its pace, fixes on the shine of his name on Marc, the way he’s whining now, small noises as his he moves in little abortive thrusts against Vale’s thigh. He grinds down, braces his free hand on Marc’s tit, framing it, and runs his mouth, mindless, says Marc’s name over and over until it's all he can think, all he can think.

“Marc, Marc,” He murmurs, and his dick kicks in his hand, and he comes, stunned, all over his name splashed across Marc’s chest. He makes a noise, one he can't help, and finds that he barely minds.

Marc doesn't let him recover, his hips still shoving upward, his hands an urgent grip on Vale’s thigh.

“Vale,” He whines, demanding, and without really thinking Vale scoots backward, bending down and sucking Marc into his mouth, working him over hard, until he can hear Marc make a noise and twist his fingers into the fabric of the sheets. He looks up at his face, at the color high on his face and the furrow of his brow as he pants. He wants to see it happen. Wants to make sure.

One suck, two sucks, and then a flood— Marc tensing and twisting, thighs coming up to Vale’s temples, and it’s over, Marc twitching and gasping through the aftershocks, the silver of the marker and Vale’s come shiny on his chest. 

“That was fun,” He says dreamily, and Vale hums, feels a little dizzy. He wants to bite at Marc’s thigh, so he does. He'd rather taste sweat than come. Rather mark him in more ways than one, than two. Wants it any way that he can have it.

Marc pets his head lazily, rucking up the sweaty curls in a familiar motion, and then reaches over to the nightstand and puts on his wedding ring, twisting it down his finger.

“We should do that again,” He sits up to grab his phone— probably checking messages from Álex. Vale crawls up to flop next to him, leaning over the bed and grabbing a t-shirt to mop up the mess on Marc’s chest. He doesn’t like to be sticky for too long.

“Yes, yes we should,” He agrees.

Marc hums.

“Next time, I get to be the rider, I think.”

“Really? Eight time champion Marc Marquez picking up fans in bars? I could tell the papers.” He tosses the shirt over his shoulder.

Marc shoots him a look over his phone, then reaches, hand catching at Vale’s wrist and hauling him back close.

“Oh, but I thought I was not famous.”

Vale grins, collapses in to hear Marc grunt at the crush of his weight, to press his face against the soft skin of Marc’s armpit. He traces his name, and then traces Marc's scar.

“Caught that, did you?”

Marc winds an arm around his back. Keeps him there.

“Hm, yeah I did.”

“I was getting into character.”

“The character is you.”

“Yes, and I am a funny guy.” Vale says, and then he reaches up to turn off the light.

[kirbysdreamlandd]

Hiii here's one idea based on the Barnyard Eclipse Mukbang!!!

Martin has a cousin form Croatia that is visiting Canada

She gets introduced to the gang (Mandy and Hamzah) and also the slushys

They all go together to the farm to see the eclipse

Mandy n Martin get one cabin and Hamzah n Y/N another… the whole one bed trope happens 😳

They end up cuddling while talking before sleeping - in the middle of the night he gets awkwardly HARD against her and the smut comes in!!! *cabin fever*🤭

Maybe we should keep it canon that he is a hardcore virgin?!🤨

love ur writing♥️

Eclipse Mukbang

Hamzah X Y/N (Fem)

word count: 4k - longer than I expected lol, let me know if you want a pt. 2!!

After spending your whole life in Croatia, the European life was getting boring. You’d often caught yourself daydreaming about a change, about traveling somewhere new, somewhere out of the continent.

The last time your cousins visited, they couldn’t stop bragging about their Canadian life. Martin, in particular, was insufferable with his talk about his YouTube channel. He went on and on about “Slushy Noobz” and how his videos with his friend, Hamzah, were getting more and more attention. But as annoying as his boasting was, it kind of influenced you in a way.

So, when Martin randomly offered to fly you out to Toronto, you didn’t even think twice. The idea of leaving everything familiar behind, even just for a little while was too tempting to pass up.

The moment you spotted the signs written in English and French, it finally settled in: You had just flown a full 12 hours from Croatia to Canada to visit your cousin and his girlfriend.

By the time you checked into your hotel and began to unpack, your phone buzzed with a text from Martin.

Ah, right.

You’d completely forgotten that you agreed to be in one of Martin’s next vlogs. His pitch being “You’re just as stupid as us, the Slushies are gonna love you!”. And somehow, in a moment of weakness you’d said yes.

But what Martin hadn’t mentioned was that he’d booked an Airbnb for everyone to stay in. You sighed, staring at your neatly unpacked suitcase. Tomorrow’s paid-for room was now destined to sit empty while you stayed with your cousin and his friends in whatever far countryside of Ontario he deemed “So Eclipse mukbang coded”.

Oh well. It wasn’t like you were a stranger to making videos. Back when you were both kids, you and Martin used to make YouTube videos together sneaked away into your rooms during family gatherings. They were the kind of chaotic nonsense only 10 to 12-year-olds could conjure up, that’s why years later that channel was wiped off the website, never to be seen again.

Just as you were coming to terms with the Airbnb situation, another text from Martin popped up on your phone. He casually mentioned that Mandy and Hamzah would be joining and that “for the sake of the bit” Martin and Hamzah were gonna share a queen-sized bed while you and Mandy would have to do the same. You sighed, setting your phone down before diving onto the hotel room’s neatly-made bed.

As much as you tried to downplay it, you always enjoyed Martin’s company. Sure, he could be overwhelming at times, but dealing with his shenanigans was mostly fun. The two of you had a sense of unbounded silliness that you shared with no one else. While you usually kept that side of yourself hidden around most people, Martin always brought it out of you. With him, you didn’t feel the need to filter your humor or tone down yourself. It was an unspoken agreement between you two. A family bond of sorts.

-

The next day you met in Martin’s car, which was oddly being driven by his friend Hamzah, and you squeezed into the backseat.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Hamzah.” The brunette said looking at you through the rear view mirror, his thin glasses reflecting your face as you awkwardly waved in response.

From Martin’s description and based on his usual group of friends, you had expected Hamzah to be just as obnoxious. But, to your surprise, he gave off a surprisingly calm vibe. His polite introduction almost catching off guard.

“Yeah. He’s my other half” Martin chimed in grinning as he reached a hand on Hamzah’s thigh only for it to be quickly swatted away.

The two eventually started recording. After a series of exaggerated pouts and baby voices from your cousin, Martin’s girlfriend was reluctantly handed the camera, clearly giving in just to put an end to the obscenity of Martin’s pleads.

As they started talking, you noticed a subtle shift in Hamzah’s demeanor. His voice took on a slightly higher pitch, and he became noticeably more talkative. You understood the concept of putting on a persona, but you couldn’t help but wonder if, deep down, he was just as silly as you and Martin, if his videos made his truest self come out.

“So, you’re probably wondering who this is,” Mandy said as the camera flipped to face you. You froze, giving it an awkward deer-in-the-headlights stare.

“And yes, guys,” Martin interrupted from the backseat, leaning into the frame, “She is my girlfriend.”

Mandy gasped, swiveling the camera to capture Martin’s overly confident smirk, which faded fast under her glare. The whole car was quickly filled with an awkward atmosphere until Hamzah broke the silence with a stifled laugh.

“She’s your cousin, Martin, oh my god” She complained, panning the camera back to you with a defeated look on her face as though she was considering being single again. You scrunched your nose back to her, as a way of giving her your condolences.

“I’m Y/N. Martin’s cousin,” You introduced yourself, giving the camera a deadpan look. “And yes, I am unfortunately related to him.”

From the driver’s seat, Hamzah let out a low chuckle. You caught his amused glance in the rearview mirror. You spotted Martin’s pouting at the camera from the corner of your eye.

“So guys,” Martin cut in, clapping his hands together, reverting the audience’s attention back to him. “Right now, we’re on our way to the Airbnb—”

“—Brokeback Mountain Airbnb.” Hamzah interjected dryly, eyes on the road.

“The Brokeback Mountain Airbnb— where we’ll be both sleeping together in the same bed!” Your cousin announced with way too much enthusiasm to the camera. Mandy groaned audibly, leaning back to create as much distance as possible between herself and the camera.

As the drive neared its end, the car turned onto a quiet gravel road. Up ahead, a cozy lodge came into view, the air carrying a blend of woodsmoke and the earthy scent of barn animals, reminding you of the rustic surroundings.

Approaching the entrance of the house, Hamzah pulled out his phone to text the owner.

“Jesus, there’s barely any signal.”

“Hey, get off your phone,” Martin said, his voice teasing. Mandy pointed the camera at him, capturing his exaggerated performance. “Enjoy nature, man.” he added, spinning around dramatically in the air.

That’s when Mandy stopped the recording as Hamzah, too focused on trying to find a way to access the Airbnb, didn’t bother to pay attention to Martin’s antics.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Hamzah muttered after a while, tucking his phone away into his pocket. “I guess we could just start eating.”

You left Hamzah and Martin as they wandered toward two stray chairs they’d found just outside the farm. The camera, Popeyes chicken, and those stupid eclipse glasses in hand.

You and Mandy had agreed to avoid participating in the mukbang and eat in the car earlier. Maybe it was a bit out of spite: you couldn’t help it as the guys stared at you with hunger in their eyes while you devoured your chicken, still insisting they were gonna have to wait until they get to the Airbnb to start the “Mukbang”.

You realized you and Mandy got along better than expected—your shared love for animals and the casual shit-talking behind the guys’ backs bonding you. As you left the kids to play, you decided to take a stroll around the farm, bumping into a tall man with leather gloves and a broom in hand. He introduced himself as the owner and, much to your delight, offered to show you the barn animals. You told him you’d wait for the guys to catch up, and he handed you the house keys before walking off. Both of you giggled at the thought him encountering the two guys hunched over their chicken in the middle of his yard while filming a YouTube video.

Once inside the house, you and Mandy headed to the first bedroom you found. The room was cozy, with a large bed and a homely vibe you both loved. You tossed your bags on the bed and settled in, chatting and making yourselves comfortable.

But as the two of you were discussing about how much money adopting an alpaca would cost you, Mandy began sneezing more and more frequently. She sniffled, rubbed her nose, and you noticed her eyes started to water.

“Mandy, you okay?”

“I don’t know. I might be allergic to something here,” she replied, her voice a bit stuffy. “My throat is itching.”

You looked around, trying to figure out what could be causing the problem. That’s when your eyes landed on the large framed picture above the bed. It was a beautiful floral arrangement, but those colorful flowers were as beautiful as they looked like they were likely to cause an allergic reaction.

“Are you allergic to some type of flower?” you said, pointing above you. “It might be that frame over there.”

Mandy sneezed again, looking miserable. “Ugh, this is so bad.”

Without wasting any time, you helped Mandy pack up her things. “Come on, let’s change rooms.”

You grabbed the keys and led her out, making your way to the second cabin. The other bedroom was much more spacious, you realized it was probably the one the guys booked for themselves to sleep in.

“Oh well. They’re gonna have to take the floral one” You said as you set you things to the side of the bed, taking a seat on the colorful bedsheets. Mandy thanked you, while she got remaining sniffles out with the tissues you gave her.

You were both laying flat on the bed relaxing when the light reflecting into the room began to dim, Mandy tilted her head, noticing it too. Curious, you stood up from the bed and walked over to the window. Peering out, you spotted the two guys who had brought you here, standing behind a camera and exclaiming excitedly at the sky.

“They grow up so fast.” Mandy commented, her eyes darting over the two figures in the distance before walking over to the opposite window, her phone propped up to take a picture of the eclipse happening in front of her.

“Careful, you’re looking at it with no glasses on” you teased, mimicking Martin’s exaggerated tone. Mandy responded with her usual deadpan stare that she usually reserved for your cousin.

Once she finished taking her pictures, you both decided to step out and meet up with the guys. The sky was already fading back to normal as they wrapped up their mukbang. The chairs were deserted, but Martin and Hamzah were still nearby, camera in hand.

“Did you see that, Mandy?” Martin called out enthusiastically walking toward you, his glasses still on, making him look as ridiculous as it was the over-excited energy he greeted his girlfriend with.

“That was actually beautiful, man” Hamzah added, carrying empty Popeyes boxes and a tripod with ease as he started heading back toward the cabins with the rest of you.

You filled them in about the allergy situation, and they quickly agreed to switch rooms. Martin made sure to announce the plan to the viewers, turning the camera back on.

“Okay, so, we got a smaller room for us,” Martin narrated, zooming in on the bed before panning to Hamzah’s unimpressed expression as he scanned the space. “But that’s okay. It’ll bring us even clos—”

His words were abruptly cut off by the anticipation of a loud sneeze, his left hand flying up to his nose as he sniffled. “Damn, big-ass sneeze” Hamzah teased, taking the camera from Martin so he could grab a tissue.

But the sneezing didn’t stop. Each sniffle grew louder and slimier, making Hamzah let out an audible “eugh” as he watched his friend’s mucus drip onto the tissue.

“God, I might be allergic to lilies too” Martin joked weakly, before Mandy demanded he evacuated the cabin. After stepping outside for a while, Martin’s sneezes started to ease, confirming your and Mandy’s suspicions.

“Aw, we’re united by allergies too!” Martin said dramatically, wrapping his arms around Mandy, who, despite being restrained by his hug, let a tiny smirk slip across her usual stoic face.

“Shit, this is complicated,” Hamzah muttered, sighing as he gestured toward you and Mandy“We can’t switch rooms with you again.”

He bit his bottom lip, frowning in frustration, before glancing at you. Silence stretched on as you and Hamzah shared an awkward stare-off, both silently acknowledging the inconvenient situation.

“I’m sorry,” Mandy gave you both an apologetic look as she wiggled out of Martin’s restraint “We could ask for the flowers to get removed…”

But that last sentence hung in the air, heavy with a shared hesitance among all of you.

“It’s fine” You and Hamzah both said at the same time, voices overlapping in different paces but carrying the same tension.

Mandy and Martin didn’t seem to have any objections, leaving you and Hamzah to share a one-bed room.

In the quiet of your cabin, an unspoken tension between you and Hamzah grew as you were settling into the once-again changed room. Even when you were doing something as simple as unpacking your belongings, every movement seemed amplified, making you both extremely aware of each other’s presence. Hamzah glanced over, clearly trying to keep things casual.

“You good with that side?” he asked, motioning to the bed as he set his phone and retainer on the nightstand.

“Oh, yeah.” you replied, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt. You busied yourself with unpacking your pajamas, desperately avoiding his gaze.

Rummaging sounds came from his side as he fought with the zipper of his backpack, his voice breaking the silence again.

“This your first time in Canada?”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over at him while you finished setting your things on the small wooden vanity. “First time anywhere outside Europe, kinda nervous.”

Hamzah shared a laugh with you, his shoulders easing as the tension in his chest seemed to slowly settle.

“Well, welcome to America, I guess. Though, as an immigrant, I’d advise you to go back when you still have the choice.” Hamzah’s tone remained the same, the last serious remark slipping out with a half-smile, as if it hadn’t been meant to land too heavily.

His hands fumbled with the things in his backpack, pulling out a crumpled receipt and some loose papers before setting it aside with a quick motion.

He then got up and walked around the bed over to your side, stopping in front of the door, something small clutched in his hands. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes but stopping to turn towards you.

“Wanna come outside?” he asked, his gaze catching yours, what seemed like a lighter being shuffled around in hand. His dark eyes lingered a bit, scanning over your face a couple of times, as if searching for something or perhaps just your reaction.

“Sure” you said, your voice steady despite the sudden rush of the moment. Without thinking, you dropped your things, completely unaware that you had left your phone behind.

You followed Hamzah outside, your gaze fixed on the back of his head, as if trying to figure out what was going on in his mind. The air outside was cool, and the silence between you both felt oddly comfortable.

You found a bench just outside the cabin, the stone wall behind it covered in vines and delicate flowers that made it look like it was straight out of a fairytail. But as Hamzah lit his cigarette, and cloud of smoke curled up into the air, you were pulled out of that very magical feeling.

“Want one?” Hamzah asked, catching your gaze on his cigarette.

You shook your head. “No, thanks,” you replied, your voice almost reflexive.

For a moment, you hesitated, a thought almost slipping from your lips. You were about to say “I stopped that years ago” but quickly shut the thought down. It felt like the kind of thing that might open up a conversation you didn’t feel right to have in that moment. Instead, you let the silence stretch a bit longer, the smoke hanging filling the air you two were sharing.

The sky had softened into deep blue hues, casting everything in muted shadows. Hamzah’s sharp features caught the soft glow of the unfolding moon, you watched the spirals of smoke blown out of his lips drift upward before dissolving into the night.

“I thought I finally stopped, you know,”Hamzah’s low voice broke the silence, a chuckle escaping mid-sentence.

You glanced over at him. He was already looking at you, though his gaze seemed to falter, as if he hadn’t meant to get caught. The cigarette dangled between his fingers, its ash tumbling to the ground below.

“Still, I carry a pack in my backpack,” he admitted, his tone hollow. “Guess I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

A humorless chuckle slipped out of him. His eyes dropped to the ground, and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. For a moment, you noticed the subtle tremor in his fingers.

Hamzah caught the way your eyes lingered on his trembling hand. His jaw tensed, and he lifted the cigarette for another drag, faking nonchalance.

“I’m only smoking ‘cause of nerves,” he muttered, the smoke curling from his lips. “This bed situation has been making me a bit…” He trailed off before biting the inside of his cheek. His words swallowed by hesitation.

“It’s hard to stop,” you admitted, your voice low but steady. “I mean, I’ve been there. Quit, started again, quit again… It’s a never-ending cycle.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth like a landslide, a reflexive need to reassure him colliding with an undeniable sense of relatability. Hamzah caught your gaze from the corner of his eyes, his expression softening, steady and quiet, as if he was carefully holding onto every word. When you fell silent, though, he didn’t look away. His expression seemed to be expectant, like he wasn’t yet ready for you to stop talking.

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your coat. “Anxiety is something you have to battle, not cope with.”

The sentence hung in the air, heavier than you intended. Your tone came out too even, you almost worried it sounded cold. But the words were real—every bit of them was something you truly meant, words you wished someone had said to you when you were struggling too.

Hamzah’s silent response should’ve been unnerving, but it wasn’t. In fact, the way he looked at you, earnest, almost patient, made you feel oddly grounded. He nodded slowly, the corners of his lips tugging into a soft smile. It wasn’t a defeated one this time, but something warmer, more genuine. “That’s true” he said simply. But it didn’t feel like just an agreement for you, it was an affirmation that every bit of your words actually mattered.

But before you two could add anything more, Martin’s voice cut through the quiet night.

“Hey, we’re about to go eat dinner!” Your cousin exclaimed, walking over to you, car keys jingling in his hand. “You guys coming or…?”

“Just give me the keys, man.” Hamzah groaned as he stood up from the bench, a soft grin peeking through his rough act, swiftly catching the keys thrown his way by Martin.

In the car, you caught Hamzah’s gaze more than once. His eyes shifted between the road and brief glances at you, his steady expression almost as if he were ensuring both the drive and you were under control.

You dined at a Chinese restaurant in the area, despite you and Mandy’s earlier talk about wanting to try Ontario’s traditional country dishes. Hamzah had scoffed at the idea, insisting there was no such thing, and if there was, it wouldn’t be worth tasting.

During your second round of sushi rolls, Martin, mid-attempt to hit the ending scene “Wicked”high notes, accidentally knocked over a bowl of hot soup. The contents spilling all over your light blue dress. Though the soup wasn’t boiling hot, Hamzah moved quickly to catch the bowl and then proceeded to dab at the stain with tissues while Martin apologized profusely. You laughed it off, even if the damp spot on your stomach left you trembling during the walk back to the car, the chill of Canada’s cold air biting at your wet skin.

Clutching your coat tightly in a futile attempt to warm yourself, you shivered visibly. Hamzah noticed immediately and leaned toward you. “You okay?”

“Just give her your jacket already” Mandy scolded, peering over Martin to shoot Hamzah an annoyed look.

Hamzah shrugged off his jacket without a word, holding it by the shoulders as he hovered it behind you. The awkward silence stretched long enough to make you wonder if you were supposed to laugh or not, but his steady expression made you quickly slip your arms through the sleeves, the jacket settled warmly around you, its length arriving to your thighs.

His hands brushed against your shoulders as he adjusted the coat, patting it into place with a casualness that made you undeniably flustered. But despite the warmth left on the coat from Hamzah, you found yourself longing for the heat of his hands on your shoulders, a thought you tried to brush off throughout the whole walk.

As you made your way back to the lodge, the chilly, pine-scented air wrapped around you, illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns decorating the vine-infested walls. The chirping of crickets seemed to sing you a gentle welcome.

“Look at the stars!” Mandy exclaimed, elbowing Martin, a finger pointing up above. The group came to a halt, all turning your heads upward as one.

Above you was a sky so clear and full of stars it was hardly comparable to the light-polluted streets of Toronto. You stood still for a moment, mesmerized by the view, while Martin silently pulled out the camera.

“There’s the Big Dipper” you said while pointing toward a constellation, tracing its shape with your finger. The others squinted, following your gaze. “See? That’s the handle, and there’s the body.”

Hamzah stopped squinting to turn to the camera with a big confident smile, one that practically screamed a stupid joke was about to come out of his mouth.

Hamzah tilted his head, squinting at the stars. “Bro, the Big Dipper is what I get at Dave’s Hot Chicken, know what I’m sayin’?”

His terrible attempt at comedy was met with two deadpan stares, as expected, from both you and Mandy. Martin the other hand stifled a laugh, but quickly collected himself, turning the camera around to film himself.

“I don’t know, guys, the only beautiful star I see is the one right next to me.” Martin said, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend and pulling her close. Mandy rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips as she reached out to rest an arm on his back.

Hamzah groaned, his eyes flicking back to the sky.

“Little Dipper’s right there, right?” He leaned in closer, his gaze following yours, hand extending to point up at the stars. “Though I call ‘em Ursa Minor and Ursa Major. Never heard of Lil’ Dipper.”

Hamzah joked, mocking your knowledge of astronomy, which made you elbow his side in frustration.

“Oh, but I’m sure you know all about Lil Yeat, right?” You shot back, your tone confident.

But you were met with a burst of laughter exploding from him, his dry chuckles paired with his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. He wiped at his eyes, struggling to catch his breath. “Did you say Lil Yeat?” he gasped breathless.

You rolled your eyes as Hamzah tried to control his laughter, his hand rubbing his face frantically as he struggled to compose himself. He really didn’t have to mock you twice in a row, especially when the first joke was based on something you clearly had more knowledge on, and the second one being about a rapper’s name, one that you really couldn’t cared less about.

Hamzah hadn’t stopped teasing you about it, repeating “Lil Yeat” to Martin, who had the same, in your opinion, exaggerated reaction. The jokes carried on all the way to the cabin, where you two found yourself in after being ditched by the couple, who had conveniently decided they needed some “private time.”

“I’m gonna make you a Yeat fan one day, mark my words” Hamzah declared, locking the door behind him. That teasing smirk he’d been wearing all evening was still firmly in place.

“Can’t wait” you replied dryly, heading straight for the bathroom. You unpacked your cosmetics onto the small, cramped counter and began sorting through your skincare essentials. Just as you settled into your nightly routine, Hamzah started hovering in the doorway, holding a moisturizer and toothpaste. You quickly interjected his request to borrow some of your skincare products, cutting him off with a sharp look, but his insistent nudging came back the moment you pulled out a new product.

“Why not? There’s no way I can fit mine in this tight of a space anyway.” he whined.

“That’s what she said,” you muttered, dabbing your pricey Tatcha moisturizer onto your face.

The night passed quickly as the two of you argued over who had to take a piss the most all the way toplayfully shoving each other to claim the impossibly tiny sink.

When you finally made it to bed, you were relieved to find it wasn’t as small as you’d feared. Though not too spacious, it fit both of you well enough under the heavy blankets.

“Holy shit—your foot!” Hamzah suddenly yelped, jerking his leg away when your icy toes brushed against his calf. His warmth was so inviting, though, that you couldn’t help but inch closer.

Without warning, you extended your leg again, letting your foot rest against what you quickly realized was his thigh.

“Oh my god—“ Hamzah groaned as your heel pressed into his skin. He flinched but didn’t pull away immediately, giving you just enough confidence to push further.

Smirking, you placed your foot completely flat onto his thigh, his body warmth radiating like a heater to the entire sole of your foot.

“You better stop.” he threatened through chuckles, his leg jerking involuntarily as his hand darted out to grab your ankle. You yelped, trying to jerk your leg free, but his hold only tightened, restricting your movement. In a burst of resistance, you pushed forward with more force than you intended.

The sudden motion sent him lurching forward, his chest subtly pressing against your back. You both froze, the laughter still caught in your throat as you felt the fabric of Hamzah’s shorts tickling your thigh.

You quickly turned into a flushed mess, your face heating up as you felt a firm bump against your backside, Hamzah’s breath quickening against your ear.

[out-there-tmblr]

Young zaundads wip (37)

***

"Five bronze," Babette says, when Silco asks if he can borrow clothes for a day. "With a thirty bronze deposit, in case they don't come back in the same condition."

In case they don't come back at all, Vander thinks. "I should come with you."

Silco rolls his eyes. It's not the first time Vander's suggested they should do this together and every time Silco says he'll draw less attention on his own. Someone Vander's size is going to be noticed in Piltover.

"I mean it," Vander says. "You've never even been over the bridge before. At least I've been in Piltover."

"As a child. Picking pockets while your mother worked," Silco replies, picking through the choice of shirts Babette spread over the table. "There is no way anyone looks at you and doesn't immediately know you're from the undercity."

"But you'll blend right in?" The worst thing is that Silco might blend in up there. He's always been a little too pretty, manners a little too fine, to fit in well in the mine.

"In the right clothes, hopefully." Silco holds up a black vest and a burgundy shirt to Babette, but she shakes her head. Silco picks up a pale green shirt instead, with an embroidered collar and fabric so thin you'd be able to count his ribs. "It would be a different story if Babette had any clothes that would fit you. You don't, do you?"

The yordle tilts her head, sizing Vander up shamelessly. "A pair of curtains, maybe."

"Cute," Vander says and Babette shrugs at him.

Silco strips off, and pulls on the too-thin shirt. "This isn't dangerous. It's not illegal to enquire about land ownership with a council office."

"And we all know enforcers have never arrested someone doing something that's technically legal." Vander crosses his arms, still unhappy. He watches Babette fetch a different vest, a rich blue, and a silver-grey long jacket to finish. The jacket is a little too tight on the waist, doesn't quite button up, but the overall look…

He looks like a topsider, wearing pale colours that would be smeared with soot by the end of the day. A shirt too thin to be practical, a jacket cut too close to be comfortable. He looks like someone else.

"Do up every button." Babette eyes Silco carefully. "You might need a tie."

Neither of them has any idea how to tie it, but Kane hustles Silco out of Babette's kitchen and makeshift office to sit him in front of a mirror. It takes a few demonstrations and a few practice runs, but Silco gets it eventually. Silco eyes his reflection, all sharp, pressed lines and soft colours. "What do you think?"

Kane laughs, her blond curls moving with the sound. "You look like a topsider wearing your best clothes. Try to look a bit more relaxed, like you wear this every day."

Silco looks at Vander in the mirror. "What do you think?"

"I think I'd feel better if I was coming with you," Vander says, and there's a flash of worry on Silco's face that suggests he might feel the same. It's gone quickly but it was there. "But I'm itching to punch you, so you look like a Piltie."

"How reassuring."

***

Vander does his best to hide his nerves, but he doesn't truly relax until Silco turns up at the mess hall, two hours before curfew. He's back in his own clothes: thick dark pants, dark cotton tops soft with wear, sturdy mining jacket. Seeing him is such a relief it makes Vander grin.

"Finally," Connol says, getting up and taking the spare seat next to Benzo, leaving Silco space to slide up against Vander. "He's been waiting for you all night."

"I was at Babette's." It's not a complete lie. There's dark liner along his lashes, a sure sign that Silco changed at Babette's on the way here. "Her workers had a few requests."

"If you get any more of that red lip stain," Felicia says, leaning across the table, "I want first dibs. I'm nearly out."

"Noted," Silco says, going so far as to pull out his notebook to actually write it down. He does keep records of requests and waiting lists.

Vander finishes his next drink and then makes their excuses. It's not that he doesn't trust his friends, but talking in a crowded hall isn't smart. They walk to the far side of the courtyard and then duck into the old mining tunnels, following their path back to their room. These days, Vander could walk that path in the dark.

"How did it go? Any trouble with the enforcers?"

"Turns out the enforcers don't bother you if they think you're one of them." Silco steps through the tunnel, sure-footed and certain, even with the lantern turned down low to preserve power. "It went better than expected. The land is abandoned, it was never sold. There's no access to the river or water, and no coal beneath it. It's considered worthless."

Just because Pilties won't pay for it, doesn't mean they'll give it away for free. "But it still has a price, right?"

"Administration fees to transfer ownership. A certificate fee to be able to prove it. I even had to pay for a copy of the forms to complete," Silco pauses, looking up at Vander as he holds the door open. He closes it behind Vander and locks it with a little metal latch Connol made. "Eighty-seven gold all up."

"So not impossible," Vander says, "but…"

"More than we have right now," Silco finishes. "There's a delivery of gas masks coming next week, that will get us close. But I'll have to check with the harbour master and see what ships are due before the end of the month."

Vander shrugs his jacket off and hangs it up. Everything they buy is based on trust and spoken agreements. They're not topsiders with legal contracts. If they don't have the funds to pay for each delivery, the next delivery won't come. They can withdraw more funds when the cash box comes next but they'll need enough funds to pay the next month's deliveries as well.

Silco holds out his jacket and Vander hangs it inside his own. They get undressed quietly, Silco lost in his own thoughts, as he undoes buttons and hangs clothes around the room. Turn the lantern down until it's a bare glow in a room of shadows.

"So it will take some time," Vander says, getting into bed. He holds the blankets up until Silco slides in beside him. "We didn't expect it would be easy."

Silco gets in, bare skin cool against Vander's side and feet this side of freezing. He curls up against Vander, head resting on Vander's arm. "Is it too much to ask that something could be easy?"

Vander presses a kiss to Silco's forehead. "Maybe this is the easy part."

"What?"

"You and me," Vander murmurs against his skin, wrapping an arm around Silco's lean chest. "Maybe that's the bit we get easy."

There's just enough light to see Silco's smile, the pleased glitter in his eyes. "Maybe."

***

[slxtarchive]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐁𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. when you find yourself struggling in one of your classes, you thank your lucky stars for such a helpful professor

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃. yes, you can find it here.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. SMUT ! age gap [ up to your interpretation but about a 4-5 yr age gap is intended ], degrading, use of the words dirty & filthy, name calling [ slut, dirty girl, filthy girl, whore, sir ], pinch of handjobs, pnv sex [ unprotected - not recommended ], table sex & standing doggy style.

𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒. he looks so good in that photo. thank you for being patient, i hope you enjoyyy [ divider is made from youtube & capcut ]

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 2.4k.

the classroom was quiet, the only thing heard was the scratching of the chalk on the old school chalkboard. standing in front of the equation you tried and tried to think of how to solve it but ended up stumped. your lips pressed into a pout as you turned around. “i don’t get it.” you sighed, finally turning to glance in colby’s direction.

professor brock with his hands on his hips leaned back against his desk. he crossed his arms and gave you an encouraging nod. “alright, where are you stuck?”

you bit your cheek. “um, everywhere?” you replied, motioning to the unsolved problem on the board.

he let out a soft laugh, pushing himself off the desk, and walked over to stand beside you. “okay, let’s just break it down again,” he spoke pointing to the beginning of the equation. “what’s the very first thing you do here.” his tone was soft and light holding a bit of a intelligent sound.

you hesitated getting a bit distracted by the wafting scent of his cologne. you bit your cheek trying to think about the equation. “simplify?” you guessed mindlessly.

he held a light grin. “close.” his voice was so patient. “distribute first, then simplify. go on, try it.” he nodded to the boards.

you nodded slowly grabbing the chalk and began to write. you were on a roll but your hand froze halfway through. “shit — no this doesn’t even make sense.” you groaned, glancing up at him.

your professor sighed, stepping closer so he was standing right behind you. “here,” his tone was light. “let me guide you.”

he reached out, placing his hand gently over yours. his touch was warm and steady, and he guided you through the motion of writing out and solving the next step.

you felt a fire ignite on your skin and your heart started to race. his breathing was slow on your neck as he focused on solving the problem. everything about this intrigued you, turned you on even. he was so — “see?” he murmured, his breath brushing against your ear. “it’s not as complicated as it looks.”

you looked at the problem and noticed everything had been solved. you had been daydreaming. you swallowed harshly before speaking up, “i don’t know.” the uncertainty in your voice was apparent. you tilted your head up at him slightly noticing the flush in his cheeks. “it still feels… complicated.” the eye contact you made with him felt very intimate so he found himself stepping back.

he froze as he put distance between the both of you, your hands no longer touching anymore. “you just need practice.” he cleared his throat.

the way he stood there awkwardly showed you that he felt the exact same way. how he put his hands in his pockets and tried to avoid any extra eye contact.

“maybe,” you bit your lip to fight off a huge grin as you turned toward him. “or maybe i just need the right teacher.”

colby raised a brow noticing your flirty tone and how your posture was telling. “yn…” he said with a warning, though his voice was soft.

“what?” you asked, feigning innocence. “i’m just saying, you’re really good at this.”

his jaw tightened, and he looked away, trying to focus on anything but the way you were staring at him. “we should continue to focus on the math now.” he said, his voice low.

you put on a playful pout. “i am focusing.” you replied taking a step closer. “but maybe i just need a little… incentive.”

colby’s chest rose and fell heavily as he met your gaze. “yn, this… this isn’t— ”

“isn’t what?” you raised your brows. “professor, you don’t have to pretend like you don’t feel anything that i feel.” your voice was quiet and insistent.

he ran a hand through his dark hair looking at the way your shirt was tight around your body leaving just a few to the imagination. how your skin looked so soft, so smooth, so pure. his resolve slowly crumbled around your boldness. “this is a bad idea.” he muttered softly, barely above a whisper.

you were closer than ever before, your body nearly making contact with his. she looked up at his tall figure. “then stop me.” you whispered, your voice daring as you stepped one more inch closer.

he didn’t move. not one inch. he couldn’t. he wanted this.

for a long charged moment, neither of you spoke. your heart was beating so fast, racing even but you held your stance. you searched colby’s eyes trying to wonder what his next step would be.

then, as if something inside him snapped, coming closer to the distance between you. his hands found your waist, pulling you against him as his lips claimed yours.

the kiss was intense, a release of all the tension that had been building between you two. you pressed your hand against his chest, tilting your head to deepen the kiss as he backed you against the chalkboard.

you gasped as your back hit the wall. he pushed you further up against it kissing you with passion and need.

when you both finally pulled apart, you were breathless and felt dizzy trying to register what just happened. colby rested his forehead against yours. “this is going to get us both in trouble.” his voice was hoarse.

you lightly smiled, licking your bottom lip. your fingers curled into his shirt clutching it in your hands and pulled him closer. you then whispered against his lips, “then let’s make it worth it.”

he seemed to have an internal battle within himself before he grabbed your face pulling you toward his slowly, tortuously slow. your lips touched ever so slightly as your breathing mingled with his. he sighed softly, wanting to connect them.

you leaned forward trying to mold them together but he pulled back teasingly. he grinned looking at your eyes and then lips. you let out the slightest whimper that had him lose all control.

he molded your lips with his gripping your waist with urgency. your moans got caught in your throat as he grabbed you harshly before muttering ‘up’. you gasped before jumping so his hands rested on your ass carrying you over to sit on his desk.

he knew it was risky but at this point in time, he didn’t care. he shoved everything off his desk to make room for you and continued to kiss you on your lips, then brought his own all the way down to your neck — sucking and biting. “this is so wrong.” he groaned against your neck.

your eyes fluttered shut loving the feeling of his skin on yours. your chest was moving up and down as you tried to speak through your staggered breathing. “is it?” you questioned, trailing your hand down until you found his print. he was hard under his slacks. you felt excitement course through you as your brain rested on the thought of how you were turning colby on.

you palmed him through the thick material of his pants, earning a low groan from him. he clutched your hips pulling you closer to him. you moved your hand from between you two allowing your centers to collide with one another. you felt that pressure send a shock up inside you. “feels so good.” you whined as you held onto colby’s shoulders.

a low laugh left his lips. “yeah?” he fiddled with his belt with his free hand. you took your hands off his shoulder one by one to prop yourself up. he took his hand off your hip looking down at you as you sat down staring up at him. “so pretty starin’ at me.” he licked his bottom lip unbuckling it swiftly before unbuttoning his pants.

you pulled him by the belt loops of his pants then brought your hand up to his chest clutching his shirt. “make me feel pretty.” you pulled him closer. he looked down at you just before grabbing the waistband of your skirt and tugging it down a bit. you lifted your hips so that he could fully take it off so it pooled hanging off your legs.

his hand reached inside your panties using two fingers to collect your arousal. “already so wet for me, so filthy.” he purred. “my filthy girl.” he brought your slick up to your clit slowly rubbing circles. you bit your lip whimpering slightly.

he kept this going as he spoke in your ear. “you love the thought of fucking your professor? dirty dirty girl.” his fingers picked up the pace stimulating you so good. his words also brought you close and faster than you’ve ever cum before. you felt yourself try to catch your breath and keep up. “gonna have to teach you another lesson huh?”

you nodded the pleasure practically blinding you as you clenched your eyes shut. you felt your legs practically shaking as you felt your impending orgasm. suddenly colby stopped his actions, bringing his fingers up to his mouth. your eyes were mesmerized by how he licked and sucked them clean. “wanna taste you so bad but i have a meeting in a few minutes. can’t believe a dirty slut like you…” he grabbed your jaw. “would make me late for a meeting, all because you’re greedy and needy for my cock, yeah?”

that mouth of his had you completely dripping on his desk. he noticed laughing humorlessly. “making a mess too, so disrespectful.” he pouted. “you wanna be like that, probably shouldn’t give you what you want huh?” he stood still not making any more to continue what was happening.

his words causing you to speak up. “n-no! please… please fuck me.” you begged. “promise i’ll be a good girl for you professor.” you bit your lip as you called him his professional name. he raised a brow, secretly loving the way you called him that but he was looking for more.

“beg more. how bad do you want my cock, huh?” he put your hair behind your ear.

you gulped bringing your hand inside his boxers before grabbing his hard dick and gently pumping him once. “s-so bad sir. so bad, been wanting it.” you licked your lips as you saw his head lull back at your touch. “want you so bad. promise i won’t be filthy anymore. i’ll always be a good girl for you.” you blinked at him.

you were so hard to resist for him, he just had to give you what you wanted.

he licked his teach grabbing your hand and moving it aside grabbing his own cock out. he pumped himself a few times before nudging your legs further apart. he lined himself up with you feeling how smooth and silky you felt.

your hands fell behind you once again holding your balance. you almost felt yourself collapse when colby pushed all the way inside you. you gasped your jaw dropping as you felt him immediately nudge that sweet spot and at that moment, you knew you weren’t going to last long. he thrust in and out of you slowly enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him.

he moaned at how your walls closed around and swallowed him. “taking me so well. whore for this cock, yeah?” he grabbed your hips thrusting in and out. the view in front of you is so hot. the way his hair fell in front of his eyes, how it was sticking to his forehead because of his sweat — a dream you got to see in reality.

he looked at his watch noticing he had to speed things up. “fuck — have only five minutes.” he groaned, “wish i could take my time with you.” he muttered. he ended up pulling you off the desk and turning you around. “don’t worry baby, gonna make you feel so good, jus’ quicker.” he said sliding back in. you gripped the desk as he pushed down onto his. skin slapping together echoed through the lecture hall — your tiny whimpers and moans threatening to escape.

you felt that natural feeling in your stomach rising up and banding together. you couldn’t help but clench around colby. “fuck — gonna cum! please please please…” you whimpered, the pleasure becoming too much.

colby had a lazy grin on his face as he felt the same way. “cum on my cock. be the greedy good girl you are and milk my cock.” he groaned, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he felt himself spill inside you shortly after your legs shook in response to your orgasm.

your hands gripped the desk until they appeared white. sweat beading down your forehead.

in the silence that followed only your harsh breaths mingled in the air — the reality of what just happened settling into place. you slowly stood up as colby helped you lift up your underwear and skirt. you felt colby’s cum slowly dripping out of you; a reminder of what previously occurred.

you bit your cheek observing him buckling his pants up and fixing his collar. then he finally made eye contact with you. “i’m dropping you.” he stated.

your heart dropped out of your chest as he gathered his things. “what? i — im sorry professor brock. i… i didn’t mean to—”

he shook his head. “yn, i’m dropping you because i can’t have any romantic relations with a student.” his face did not at all show how serious dropping you from the class would be.

you gulped realizing he was right. did you regret what happened? you didn’t know. all you knew though was that you needed the class.

“i’ll make sure to get you enrolled in another class though.” he nodded. “and by no romantic relations with a student i mean, it’s because i… want to do this again. i’d like to take you out though, if that’s okay.”

his words caught you completely off guard. he just asked you out? it wasn’t just some in-the-heat-of-the-moment sex, he actually wanted to get to know you.

the smile that made its way onto your face was huge. he pressed his lips together trying to refrain from smiling back. “we'll talk tomorrow, can’t be late to this meeting.” he opened the door waving you over. “you have my number.” he stated as you walked out.

you nodded, giving him a polite smile. his thoughts raced clouding with thoughts of what just happened and what could happen as you walked away.

© 𝐬𝐥𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞

[milessunflowers]

Part 2 though would you be adverse to writing the media's reaction?

And maybe the other drivers learn of their relatioship and their like 'is that all it took to get you two to stop pining after each other!?!? Should have just called the guy smh'. I'd find it even funnier if perrie (is that how its spelled?) Is just done with charles pining after both of them cause he's the one charles goes to with his woe is me bullshit, feel like max would have lando as his like 'gossip about my crushes' person and he's just done with him too.

Sorry if you don't do part two's, also awesome story love it so much.

–🍑

i can absolutely do a pt 2 peach!!

max verstappen x male!reader x charles leclerc

synopsis: it only took a few weeks for your relationship to make it to the public eye, mainly because your boyfriends can't stop yapping.

author's note: peach, i am kind of obsessed with this lestappen x male reader ideas because it's just like 😍 i have no words. it so funny and entertaining to me (trust there is dialogue in this one fr!). like always, feel free to continue to request!

you were hoping to keep things private for at least a couple of months. you should've known better. you did know better.

unfortunately for you, your boyfriends seemed to be allergic to shutting the fuck up. you weren't upset, though. in fact, you thought it was hilarious and adorable. however, charles and max didn't need to know that small tidbit of information.

you first heard that others knew of your relationship from pierre, who complained to you during the driver's parade.

"i can't believe you guys didn't tell me! charles was pining for you two for as long as i can remember! now he won't shut up about how much he loves you and how happy it is now that you guys are dating!" pierre whines, sending a teasing glare to the back of charles's head. charles was too busy yapping with carlos to notice.

"he told you now, did he?" you ask in return, a pinch in between your eyebrows. you had planned to tell everyone together, but your boyfriends tended to become mindless when they were chatting with the others.

"he told me the three of you barely fit on the bed since max takes up most of it, and how you make breakfast in the morning and how he gets the princess treatment!" pierre exclaims, sighing heavily. "it is ridiculous, truly."

the next time you found out others knew about your relationship was when you were on podium with lando and max.

"max here told me you three were together!" lando tells you in a whisper as max's eyes are trained on the race replays. the cool down room was almost quiet, save for max's comments here and there.

"of course he did," you remark quietly with a small eye roll.

"took you guys long enough," the younger man replies, nudging you with his papaya clad elbow, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that made you want to kick his shins. he was like your annoying little brother.

"you don't get to comment, mr. 'i am helplessly in love with my teammate but won't tell him'," you retort with a smirk as he blushes a bright red and laughs nervously.

"fair point," lando responds, dropping the subject entirely and taking up conversation with your boyfriend.

the next time another driver asked about your relationship with max and charles, it had been a surprise to you. lance, who you got on well with, gave you a knowing look after post-race interviews. you had gone directly to max and charles, striking up conversation while you all stood suspiciously close. closer than you normally did. you excused yourself when lance shot you that look.

"finally confessed?" lance asked as soon as you were right next to him. he was more subtle about it compared to pierre and lando. lance had been one of the people you were closest to, from the time you started the early formula series up to now.

lance knew all about your crushes on the other two. "that obvious?" you asks in return, grinning at your friend as he pats you on the back. you knew he was happy for you. "don't worry, stroll. you're still my best friend," you assure him, nudging him in the ribs. he grins and nudges you back.

the final time you heard of your own relationship was from none other than your number one nemesis: danica patrick. she addressed on sky sports, stating it was a rumor and making small, almost unnoticeable bacl handed comments.

hearing her agitating voice, you decided to pull both your boyfriends aside. you explained to them that they should go off the handles and let everyone know about their relationship during their next interviews.

most press rook this in stride. the gossip accounts all over tiktok and instagram were ablaze, the hottest topic being the three of you. of course, there was loads of hate but you could care less. you were happy and that's all that mattered.

TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo

[masterjedilenawrites]

Hi!!! I listening to the Florence and the Machine song “girl with one eye” and it got me in a super angsty mood, and I had this idea that what if reader saves Rex from being tortured like a heroine and does the dramatic bridal carry and everything, instead of the usual reader being saved like a lot of fics end up writing in terms of super angst (absolutely no hate, I love those too) I just think it would be nice to see the reader being extremely capable!

You obviously do not have to write anything like this, I just had the idea and you are by far one of my favorite writers (my dyslexic ass cant write for shit)

Anyways, hope you have a wonderful day!

Saving Rex

Rex x reader | 4.4k words

Content: torture (not shown but discussed), injuries, general angst, reader with some physical strength/stamina, friends to lovers, hope and love prevail

Note: I'd really like to believe I could carry Rex down a flight of stairs if I needed to. Maybe I'll use that for motivation during my next workout 😝 (Also this got really emotional in some places, please don't hate me)

To say you were panicking was an understatement. Rex had never been this late to a rendezvous. And with comms jammed, there weren't many options to figure out what could be keeping him. It was one of your only nightmares coming true. Something happening to that noble, wonderful man you called a friend.

You paced restlessly between the walls of the bunker, an eye on the door at all times. Any noise, any howl of the wind or scrape of someone's boot on the concrete floor, made you twitch in alarm. You had never experienced the seconds ticking by so slowly. Kriff, where was he?

"You should get some rest."

While you watched the door, Anakin watched you. Normally he would tease over any emotion you showed for his Captain; no matter how much you tried to keep such feelings under wraps, the Jedi always seemed to sense the truth anyway. But now he put jokes aside and did what he could to quell your anxieties.

You only shook your head in response and continued your pacing.

Anakin sighed and fell back in his chair. The other men in the bunker were anxious, too. Even if he couldn't feel it, he could see it all around. Bouncing knees. Fiddling with random objects. Untouched food and unspoken words. No one was going to sleep, even though everyone needed it. It was going to be a long night. Unless Rex found his way back.

Anakin could admit he was worried for the clone, too. They had fought alongside each other for so long now, it didn't seem possible that there'd be a day where one of them was no longer standing. But what he couldn't admit, at least not to anyone else, was that he had a very bad feeling this time. He kept trying to reach out in the Force, find some trace of his comrade out there, and he kept coming back with an even worse feeling than before.

A sudden sound at the door caused everyone to sit up, tense and hopeful. Three knocks with a very specific rhythm. Someone from your team. You could barely breathe as you waited for Anakin to open the door.

Ahsoka hurried through, along with a gust of wind that fluttered some of the more lightweight objects around the room. Anakin quickly shut it behind her. You'd almost forgotten she had been out, too. Gone to look for Rex, help him get back. But she hadn't brought anyone back with her. Now you really couldn't breathe.

"What'd you find?" asked Anakin, noting the urgent expression on the young girl's face.

"They've taken him to the fortress across the south bridge. I followed a... trail," she quickly glanced over at you, omitting what the trail was composed of for your sake, though you could make an educated guess if you had to. "They have him in a tower. I couldn't get eyes on him, but... Well, I could hear him."

Her face screwed up in distress at the memory and everyone in the room knew exactly what she meant.

"Any way we can carry out an extraction?" asked Anakin.

"If not now, then when?" You marched forward, determined and resolute. You could breathe again, though just barely. "Nighttime. Storm. Now is the only time."

Anakin still looked to his padawan for confirmation. She'd seen the fortress and would know whether it was a risk worth taking, even for someone as dear to them as Rex.

To your satisfaction, Ahsoka didn't hesitate to nod quickly. "That's why I hurried back as fast as I could. I couldn't get to him on my own, but with a small team...."

"It'll have to be really small. We can't risk blowing our cover here," Anakin agreed and finally uncrossed his arms. He hadn't realized how tense he'd been holding himself this whole time. But now there was some hope, and all that was needed to reach it was a bit of daring action. Something he was never in short supply of, and something hew knew Rex wouldn't hesitate to do for him if the roles were reversed.

"You, me," you motioned to yourself and Anakin. "Ahsoka can keep guard here."

"And me," came a clone's voice by your side. All of them were intently listening to the conversation, and while any one of them would have been eager to volunteer to save their Captain, one knew he was needed more than any other. Kix.

"There may not be time to administer first aid on sight," Anakin cautioned.

Kix puffed himself up a bit. "I'll do what I can. You two focus on getting us out without a fuss."

Anakin smirked and you cast him a grateful smile of your own. This was not an ideal outcome, learning that Rex was in distress. But at least he wasn't dead yet, and you could work with that. Now his fate was in your hands. And with a burning fire in your heart, you knew you would save him.

- - -

Rex waited until the echoing of their footsteps was gone before allowing himself to collapse. His knees hit cold stone but the jolt was barely felt amongst the rest of the pain radiating throughout his body. He curled in on himself, arms gently folding around the worst of the injuries in his middle, and his head hung low in exhaustion.

He wasn't sure how much more he could take of this. He hated the thought, but it was true. An entire day of torment and torture, relentless and unforgiving. Even with all his training, this situation was proving difficult to bear.

There was only one thing keeping him alive, he was sure of it. You. The memories of your smile, your laughter, all the lovely things you somehow said at just the right times. The thought of you continuing on without ever knowing how he felt. You were strong and capable in your own right, but he still wanted to be there for you. To protect you. To love you.

Gods, how he loved you.

He couldn't be broken in this place. No, not before seeing you one more time. He would give you his heart, and then he could finally let go.

- - -

Your feet thunked against each step of the spiraling stone stairs. Anakin's and Kix's were not far behind. Only a few guards and droids had had to be taken care of thus far, done swiftly and discretely by the two soldiers while you focused on navigating through the labyrinth of the fortress to the tower that held Rex. But as soon as you'd reached the door leading upward, Anakin had voiced his unease. Worse was coming, he insisted. And if they proceeded, they'd be just as trapped in that tower as their Captain was.

You pushed forward without a second thought.

And they reluctantly followed.

You weren't dumb. You knew it was foolish to rush into an enemy's territory with no plan and no backup. You knew you could be condemning Rex with your impulsive actions rather than saving him. But somehow, those sensible thoughts were overwhelmed by a deep and desperate need to find him at any cost. If you could just see him, then everything would be okay.

Thunk, thunk, thunk. One step and then another and another. Your lungs heaved and your thighs burned but you kept climbing. You weren't sensitive to the Force, but you swear you could feel yourself getting closer to him.

The sudden sound of a lightsaber igniting behind you finally gave you pause. You stumbled on the next step as you slowed and turned. Anakin had stopped several steps below and was staring downward, waiting for something.

"What is it, sir?" Kix huffed beside him.

Anakin only held up a finger as if he were trying to listen. You were panting, too, and tried to hold in a breath so you could hear whatever he could. There was only the hum of a lightsaber and the wailing of the wind from the other side of stone walls.

And then suddenly there was pounding. The whole tower seemed to shake with the thunderous footsteps of soldiers making their way upward, blocking your only way back out. Anakin jerked his head toward you.

"Go. Find him. I'll push them back."

As Anakin rushed downward, Kix wavered in between. Rex would need his aid, but his aid would be worthless if they couldn't escape. He finally looked back at you, too.

"You've got this," he stated before raising his blaster and following General Skywalker.

You resumed your trek upward, your attention slipping back to its previous singular focus of finding Rex. Of seeing him again. Alive.

You finally reached the top of the tower and were met with a simple wooden door. Again, you knew you should slow down and think through a strategy. What if there were guards on the other side? What if their blades slipped because you startled them? But you couldn't help yourself. You'd come too far to not burst right through.

There were no guards. There were no blades. But there was, thankfully, distressingly, Rex.

He was slumped against the far wall. Motionless. You crossed the room with a few bounding strides and gently pulled him away from the wall.

You'd anticipated him being in bad shape, but not to this extent. His armor was stripped and the tattered clothes they had him in instead did nothing to hide his condition. Bruises along his arms. A sickly pallor to his skin. Dark circles beneath his eyes and cracks along his lips. His head swung toward you listlessly as you turned him. You quickly positioned his body against yours and your hand cradled his head in support.

"Rex," you coaxed, willing your voice to remain strong. Panic wouldn't help him like this. "Rex, it's okay. We're going to get you out of here. Okay?"

His eyelids fluttered but couldn't seem to stay open. He did turn toward your voice, and through a series of near-unintelligible mutters, you managed to make out your name.

"Yes," you smiled, moving your hand to cup the side of his head so you could run a soothing thumb along his cheek. "Yes, it's me. I'm here. I've got you. You're okay now."

He shifted his arms, and at first you thought he was ready to try standing. You made to move, too, but then noticed he was doing something else. He held his hand over his chest, on the side of his heart. And then slowly, his other hand reached out to rest onto your chest.

You shook your head at him, not understanding. Was he hurt there? Did they do something to his heart?

Then Rex's worn face contorted into what could only be a smile. A small but serene smile, like he'd finally found peace. The smile slowly slipped away and his body started to feel heavier in your arms.

Now you couldn't keep the panic at bay. It came out in full force, along with tears and desperate squeezing. 

"No no no. Rex. Wake up, Rex. Please. You can rest soon but we have to leave first. Okay? We have to go now. Please."

You didn't know what to do beyond pleading and shaking him. He couldn't slip away now, not when you'd just gotten here. A part of you had hoped that maybe, just by seeing you, his spirits would lift. That you would be that little kickstart to his heart that'd help him keep going. But sadly, it seemed your fantasies of him returning your affections were only that. In reality, you could have been anybody coming to his rescue, and you'd be too late either way.

No. You shook yourself now. No, it didn't matter how he felt or didn't feel. You loved him. That fire in your heart was still burning, and you were going to get him out of here alive.

You carefully but swiftly got your legs back under you, still keeping Rex's body supported as you maneuvered each other into the right position. You weren't a soldier. You didn't have the same build as the clones. But damn if you weren't just as determined and capable. So with a deep, steadying breath, you heaved his body across your back. One of your arms wrapped around his closest leg, keeping it tight against your side as you reached across to grab at his arm. He was heavy, but secure, and you knew you could carry him this way for as long as it'd take to escape. And as an added bonus, you'd heard a soft grunt from him as he'd bent over your shoulders. He was still alive.

You wasted no time standing around with the extra weight. You were back out the door and heading down the stairs faster than you could register. One hand running along the wall for balance and the other firmly grasped on Rex's forearm. Your thighs had done the most work to get you up the stairs; now it was your knees taking the brunt of effort going down. In your mind you alternated between prayers for your joints and prayers for Rex's life.

The sounds of your steps were drowned by the reverberating sounds of combat. The echoes made it hard to tell their distance away as you continued your descent. You braced yourself for the inevitable, feeling more and more grateful the further you went without sight of any blaster fire. You estimated only a quarter of the way left by the time you met some of the carnage on the stairs. Sizzling metal and blaster marks on the walls. It was another several of floors of picking your way between it all before you then came across Kix and Anakin. They'd made good progress pushing the onslaught back.

You hovered just beyond their reach so as to keep Rex away from the crossfire. Anakin's lightsaber did most of the work to keep the enemy at a distance, though occasionally a shot would ricochet onto the wall by your head. But slowly and surely, you were all able to make it down to the next step. Lower and lower. Closer and closer to the end.

Eventually Kix was able to pause in his help and scurry up to check on Rex. He nodded at you when he confirmed a pulse but was just as unsuccessful as you in his efforts to get the Captain to wake.

"Dehydration, possible blood loss from these wounds here," the medic chattered, more to himself than anyone, as he dug through his pack. He tore open a bacta patch and slapped it across an oozing mess of scabs on Rex's shoulder and then handed you a stim while he continued to rummage.

You jabbed the stim into the back of Rex's thigh, thrilled that you managed to elicit another groan from him. Any sign of life was a good one at this point.

"Need me to take over?" Kix asked once he'd found a breathing mask and stood back up. You shook your head, already heading back down the stairs. Anakin had managed to get through a good amount more of the droids. Kix shrugged and then rushed ahead to continue laying down blaster fire.

The fight to escape took far longer than anyone would have wanted. Even once you'd made it out of the stuffy tower, there was the maze of hallways to run back through, and more enemies to fight along the way. All hopes of a stealthy rescue were long gone. It made you nervous, wondering if you'd be able to make it out at all, at this point. The further you moved into the open, the harder it was to keep fighting. If you were lucky enough to make it outside the fortress of droids, then you'd be surrounded by a storm. You were but a Jedi, a medic, and a civilian staff member carrying a near-unconscious soldier. The path forward was looking rather grim.

You eventually got yourselves into what seemed to be a supply closet. You knew there was a service door leading outside down one end of the hall, and the front entrance to the fortress itself was only around another corner as well. But you were flanked by droids on either side. Anakin kept the door to the closet open so he could continue to pick off the droids, while you were finally able to take a break from carrying Rex as Kix more properly tended to some of his injuries.

"How's he looking?" Anakin asked over his shoulder. He wasn't sure what he wanted the answer to be. He was glad Rex was alive, but they were all running out of options. From his estimates, they'd either need to surrender and think through a better escape plan later, or barrel forward with a Hail Mary and hope for the best. Either option would be difficult with Rex in this state. If he was getting worse... if he wasn't going to make it... Anakin shuddered at the thought of having to make that call.

Kix didn't immediately answer. He'd removed the breathing mask which seemed to have sparked some energy back into Rex. He was groaning and huffing, clutching at his midsection and rolling his head back and forth restlessly. Kix tried getting his attention but the Captain only continued to fidget and groan.

"Was he like this when you found him?" Kix asked you.

"No, he was quieter. He knew who I was, though."

Kix motioned for you to come closer. "See if he'll respond to you again."

"Rex." You quickly saddled up by his side, ignoring the pain in your back and legs from crouching. "Rex, look at me. It's okay. Just breathe. You'll be okay."

Surprisingly, your voice seemed to work. Rex stilled, turning his head toward the sound. That weird little smile crept back on his face.

"Rex?"

He responded with your name, small and rasping, but clear all the same. You couldn't help but smile in return.

"Oh good, you are awake enough."

With lightning speed, Kix was back in view with a vial of... something. He tipped it into Rex's mouth and held his hand over to keep the Captain from spitting it back out. Rex sputtered and writhed against Kix's hand but eventually swallowed the liquid down with a hard, painful gulp. Rex's eyes had shot open in the process. They were red, but alert.

"It's okay," you tried soothing again. Rex relaxed against the wall he was propped against and locked his eyes with yours.

"You... came... for me?" he croaked out.

You nodded. For a second, you could have sworn tears were brimming in Rex's eyes. Maybe it was only the medicine.

"Hate to ruin the moment," Anakin called back out. The blaster fire from the hall had grown louder, closer. "But we're out of time here. Kix, anything in this closet we can fashion into a grenade?"

The medic scrambled up to look amongst the shelves.

"Rex, you able to stand? I need you both shooting blasters if you can manage it."

"I will try."

Rex was already trying to push himself off the wall. You wrapped an arm around his back and help hoist him up. His legs shook wildly from the sudden weight. You kept him leaning against you, one arm over your shoulder.

"It's okay, I've got you."

Rex smiled down at you, far too softly for what the situation allowed. You held his gaze with surprise.

Kix was pouring random bottles into each other, hoping they'd make the desired effect. Anakin was cursing as the droids drew nearer. Rex seemed to be trying to tell you something with his eyes. And just when you were about to suggest looking into the air vent situation of this place, there came a large and reverberating kaboom.

You all froze. Including the droids, who then appeared to have been given new orders as they neatly turned in the opposite direction and marched away. Something had happened by the entrance. After a few moments, you could hear their blasters firing again, along with the sounds of other weapons. Familiar weapons. Anakin grinned.

"Obi-Wan," he said before running after them.

You could've cried. Instead, you looked back up at Rex and smiled.

"Ready to go home?"

- - -

You hadn't left Rex's side for a second, much to Kix's chagrin. It was that much harder to heal a battered brother with a stubborn civvy sitting in the way. But, despite his many grumbling complaints, he still let you stay. He knew your heart. And Rex's. It'd be best for both of you to keep close, until you knew each other's.

Though when Rex did wake, you could barely get out one tearfully happy hello before seemingly everyone else on base came to his side, too.

"Thank the gods you're alive!"

"Glad you're okay, brother."

"Good to have you back."

"Can't keep a good man down."

Rex appreciated their words, he really did. He tried not to notice how silent you'd fallen amongst them. It was your words he wanted to hear most.

"How did we get out of there?" he instead asked Anakin. He remembered waking in a dark room, Kix shoving something down his throat, your voice as you sweetly called his name. Beyond that was a blur. He was pretty sure he'd passed out once he tried walking.

"I kept think about the storm," Ahsoka was the one to answer instead. "And how it would give them cover getting to the fortress. And then I thought if they happened to get caught, that'd provide just enough distraction for us to start with a good attack."

"And by us, she of course means the 212th," smirked Cody. Obi-Wan was busy sending word back to Coruscant on the mission, though they all owed it to the Jedi's decision to go looking for General Skywalker and the missing 501st. Without the added reinforcements, Ahsoka's plan wouldn't have stood a chance.

"We're just really glad you're alive, Rex," Ahsoka said softly.

"Yeah, we don't know what we would have done without you," said Anakin, though he was looking toward you as he said it. Everyone else followed his gaze, causing you to blush at the sudden attention.

"They carried you the whole way, you know," Anakin added, now directed toward Rex.

Rex's eyes grew wide, impressed.

"Don't you remember?" prompted Kix.

"I... remember you finding me," Rex told you. "In that cell. I remember feeling hope again."

Your ears were still hot from Anakin's obvious insinuations of your feelings, and now everyone was giving each other looks at Rex's words. You decided to deflect with some humor.

"Right before you tried to cop a feel," you smirked.

That did the trick. A chorus of salacious oohs and laughter rang through the rank of clones gathered. Fives went up and clapped Rex's shoulder, his bad one. Rex's wincing caused Kix to hastily shoo away Fives and everyone else making a ruckus. You remained, noticing that through it all, Rex had a blush rivaling your own.

"I... I didn't..." he stammered once most of his visitors had disappeared. Anakin gave you one last look before then coaxing Ahsoka to leave as well.

"It's okay," you reassured. "You were out of it."

"No, I wasn't, I... I was..." Rex huffed. He was having a hard time finding the right words. "Never mind, it's silly."

He fell back against the pillows with a sigh. You scooted your stool forward and rested your hands on the bedside.

"Please tell me, Rex. I feel like you've been trying to tell me something ever since I found you. But I was so focused on trying to keep you alive, I didn't understand. I'm sorry."

Rex smiled back at you, encouraged. "It's alright. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I would make it out alive. But I... well... I didn't want to let go without..." He paused, embarrassed again. This was going to sound ridiculous if you didn't feel the same.

"Without...?"

"Without giving you my heart first."

He looked at you hesitantly to find your lips had parted in surprise.

"I know. It was a silly thought--"

"No," you breathed. Your hands now slid from the blanket onto his. The memory of him in your arms, beaten and bruised, using what strength he had left to gesture between his heart and yours... you wished you'd understood then. You'd thought he hadn't cared for you in that way at all.

Rex's eyes watered along with yours as your hands clasped together and a newfound understanding settled in between.

"You can't ever disappear on me like that again," you said with a wobble in your voice. "Anakin's right, I don't know what I would have done without you. I... I love you too much to even think of it."

Rex brought your hands up to meet his lips. He kissed your knuckles softly.

"I love you, too. And... I think I'm going to need to reconsider some things, knowing that you love me back."

He gazed over your clasped hands and met the eyes of Anakin, on the other side of the medbay looking in on the other patients. He wasn't the only injured soldier from the mission. General Skywalker was a good man for checking on them, just as he would do once he could stand on his own feet again. The look he now shared with the Jedi was one of agreement. A lot had changed from this mission, and a lot would need to still change. Love, sometimes, took priority even in war. Anakin knew that better than most.

"I don't want you to--" you started to say as realization dawned. But Rex quickly shook his head.

"We have time to discuss it. Right now, just let me hold you."

You didn't need to be asked twice. Helping him carefully scoot over, you then slipped under the hospital blanket and tucked yourself in at his side. It felt right, like where you were always meant to be.

Your worst nightmare had played out in a harrowing day of panic and fear. And now your greatest dream was nestled at your side, safe and sound and alive. It had been a frightening price to pay, one you hoped you'd never have to spend again, but the heart you now held was surely a worthy reward.

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[ode-to-fury]

Adolin's arc in this book legitimately had me crying the moment his povs started I love him and Maya so much and his whole story such a poignant message about hiw looking out for the little people really truly does mean something and no one other than Adolin Kholin could have done what he did and I love it so so much. I also loved Kaladin and Szeth right up until the point Kaladin was made a Herald. I'm sure I'm in the very small minority when I saw that but idk it very much rubs me the wrong way that he was right back at it self scrificing for the sake of the Wind after all the growth he went through. He should have gone back to his family after. Anyway. Maybe thats me self projecting a little bit as well but... Kaladin has been my emotional support character since I was 12 so. That was a bit jarring. I'm sort of intrigued as to what is going to happen in the next arc tho. I did love him playing the flute and finding peace in the music. My boy. I love him.

The whole sequence with Dalinar and Taravangian was insane. Twist after twist and then the end reveal that Taravangian hadn't sacrificed everyone in Karbranth? Batshit insane Brando extremely well done you really know how to write an antagonist if nothing else. I've never been on the Dalinar hype train as much as everyone else but those last couple of chapters were truly incredible. Also Rlain and Renarin was probbaly the best written romance Sanderson has done in any of his books.

[greenerteacups]

What did you think about Katara and Aang ending up together? Did you ship them or Zutara?

Also, if you watched The Legend of Korra, what did you think of that show’s treatment of Katara’s character?

My beloved friend in Christ, look me in the eye and tell me you don't know what I shipped when I watched that show. Look at me. You know. You know damn well.

AS FOR KATARA IN KORRA for me the key part of accepting her character shift in the second series is that she's supposed to be like 90. I don't know anybody who doesn't seriously chill out when they're 90. She's pretty much at the end of her life. Her husband's dead, her brother's dead, Toph fucked off to live in the swamp, Suki has been erased from the collective consciousness a la Spiderman, and ninety-something Zuko is off somewhere riding around the country on a DRAGON in full ceremonial garb, doing recon missions for the new avatar and hunting terrorists. (That last one is awesome, and I have no notes. That boy's doing what he's meant to. I still think they should kiss. But that's not a writing critique, that's just what my heart feels is true and good.)

More generally, the sequel series doesn't give us much of the passion or lovable high-handedness she had in the original, but she was also a teenager. I have to give the writing space to bend and stretch around a 70-year time jump, and that leeway includes the possibility that Katara majorly chills out once her home is no longer under imperial occupation and she's not regularly enlisted in armed combat to defend the fantasy Buddha. Or she just got it out of her system and tapped out around 30 to have kids and live luxuriously off whatever gratitude-annuities she gets from Every Nation In The World. I like to imagine she had some adventures in her 20's and 30's leading the reconstruction effort in the Earth Kingdom, made a reasonable contribution to the waterbending academies in Republic City, decided that she could leave the rest to Sokka and Toph, and went home to enjoy life at home in peacetime. It's not the most dramatic or glamorous life, but I never get the idea that Katara wants either of those things. I think girl did her part, got her happy ending, and decided to stay there. Frodo sailing West at the end of the book? Couldn't be her! The Shire was saved, but not for you? Nope! Not here! Not Katara! She can go back to the Shire, thank you very much! She freed her homeland from a century-long imperial occupation, and she's going to march her ass home and enjoy it, thank you! Fighting the Red Lotus? Leave a voicemail. She's out teaching all the girls in the village to throw ice spears the size of a pike. She will Catch You Guys Later.

I've heard complaints that it feels like Katara didn't have any role in the post-imperial reconstruction process, and while she maybe doesn't found an institution or get a formal position of power, I think the real complaint is that we don't know enough about her to say. All the other Gaang members have a Thing that sort of represents what their goals and values were after the end of the first series. Zuko was Fire Lord (and got a sickass fucking dragon), Toph started the Republic City police (admittedly unexpected Lawful Toph Moment), Sokka becomes a city councilor for R.C. and then Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, Aang refounds the Air Nomads and also is the Avatar for the next 70 years. Which are visible and lasting marks of impact that make it easy to imagine how the others spent their time. That doesn't mean Katara didn't spend her time doing worthwhile and productive things, but we don't see them. We do know that she got bloodbending outlawed in the United Republic, and she became a "master waterbender" who's called in to consult on Korra's development both in her capacity as a martial arts expert and in a broader strategic/political way as one of the premier living experts on what it takes to be the Avatar. We don't see her much, but we do get the idea that she has plenty of respect from the people who matter.

It makes me a little sad she's not included in some of the stories we hear about the postwar Gaang exploits, like Toph and Sokka's work in Republic City, or early clashes with the Red Lotus. She's the best waterbender in the world and you guys saved the world together as teenagers; it feels like she should've been riding shotgun on some of these missions. But I try to make peace with it on the grounds that if she's not out there hunting down terrorists, it's because she's tired, goddammit. She took down a dictatorship at 15. She's been ass-whooping fascists for longer than most characters in the show have been alive. Katara is too cool of a character for any lack of detail to make me think she wasn't doing stone cold shit well into her fifties.

[kikyoupdates]

Crushed Velvet ⭑˚🥀⭑ 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑐𝑎𝑘𝑒

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, isekai

Your parents are thrilled to have secured an engagement for you with the royal family. Your suitor, the crown prince, has agreed to be wed to you. It seems as though your entire future has been assured, so why is it that from this moment onward, your life starts to fall apart at the seams?

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[Name],

My parents have instructed me to invite you to the palace so that we can spend some time together. Please find the time to come meet me tomorrow. Failing to do so would not place you on good terms with my family.

Xeno.

You gaped down at the letter, absolutely dumfounded. It was easily the most dry, unpleasant personal message you had ever received. And what, was this supposed to be a threat? He was a prince, for crying out loud, and yet his manners were practically nonexistent.

“Look at this,” you scoffed, waving the letter in front of Ella’s face. “Do you see what I mean? This is how he speaks to me. If he’s going to act like this, of course I’m not particularly thrilled about our engagement.”

Ella’s eyes kept darting to and from the page. “Um… forgive me, my lady, but I’m not so sure I should be reading any sort of correspondence you have with the Crown Prince…”

“I’m letting you see it, so it’s fine. Don’t you agree that it’s ridiculous?”

“I-It’s really not in my place to comment,” she stammered.   

“Oh, come on. You can’t lie. He’s an asshole.”

“Miss…”

“Asshole,” you muttered, crumpling up the letter between your fingers. “He has no tact whatsoever. He doesn’t even try to pretend like he wants to see me. It’s just his parents forcing him to. And he’s clearly giving me no choice in the matter, otherwise the King and Queen will be upset with me. Such a prick.”

Poor Ella was at a loss for words. You loved your sweet little maid. She was one of your closest, most valued companions. You knew you shouldn’t be burdening her with all this, but every time you told yourself it wasn’t that bad and decided to give Xeno the benefit of the doubt, he went ahead and pulled something like this.

You stared down at the crumpled letter for a few moments, then eventually smoothed out the wrinkles with your hands. “Actually, I’m going to show this to my parents and see what they think of it. They’re so fond of kissing up to the royal family and acting as if they’re all saints. I wonder if this might change the impression they have.”

It didn’t, of course.

“He simply gets straight to the point,” your mother defended. “Prince Xeno must be very busy with all his duties. It’s understandable that he wouldn’t have much time to invest in writing his letters.”

“If anyone ever wrote to either of you this way, you would be furious.”

“We are in no place to be judging him,” your father eagerly piled on. “Remember, we are forever at the service of the King and Queen. Xeno may be a little curt, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t a good person. You just don’t know him very well yet, that’s all.”

No matter what you said, no matter how Xeno acted around you or whatever evidence you provided, their opinion would never be swayed. All you could do was shake your head and sigh in defeat, the same way you always did. You were already dreading tomorrow.

Your mother patted your shoulder. “Don’t look so dejected. Why don’t you go into town for a bit before you meet with him tomorrow and pick out a nice gift? I’m sure he’ll be pleasantly surprised, and this is a good opportunity to commemorate your engagement as well.”

“But I don’t even know what he likes,” you protested. “I don’t even know if there are things he likes.”

“It’s the thought that counts. He’ll appreciate it no matter what.”

Right. Somehow, you highly doubted that. He’d probably scrunch up his nose and think that you were trying too hard to kiss up to him. Well, whatever. Maybe you could at least pick out some treats for yourself while you were in town.

With the exception of that horrible week you’d spent running all over the place to prepare your dress for the engagement party, it had been quite a while since you’d gone into town. It had just been day after day of dealing with visiting nobles and that recent debacle concerning your new tutor. Though you couldn’t exactly call this a break, per se, it would be nice to just walk around for a bit and take some time for yourself.

The following day, as per Xeno’s classless letter, you went into town by carriage along with a few servants. They pretty much insisted on following you everywhere, but they didn’t pester you or anything, so you were free to keep to your own devices.

At first you just walked around, enjoying the beautiful weather and the fresh air. After a while, it became abundantly clear that you had no particular goal in mind. You really had no clue what Xeno would appreciate as a gift. Food was probably the most logical decision. It was better than some random, permanent trinket that he probably wouldn’t even end up using. Also, if you were being honest, you were getting kind of hungry anyways.

You turned towards one of your servants. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in town. Have any new shops opened up recently? I was thinking of picking out something nice to eat for when I visit the Prince.”

“I haven’t heard of anything in particular, my lady. Would you like us to ask around?”

“Hm, I guess that wouldn’t hurt. We’ve still got quite a bit of time, so how about we split up? You can all go around and report back to me if you hear about anything good.”

He gave you a worried look. “Oh, but… your father told us to stay right by your side and make sure nothing happened to you.”

“Fine,” you sighed. “Then two of you can go ask around, and one of you can stay with me while I browse shops and restaurants on my own. How does that sound?”

They nodded, hastily deciding who would stay and who would go. You would have honestly preferred to just make a day out of this, perusing through town and enjoying the sunshine. Still, now that you were already here, you may as well get what you’d come for.

Something Xeno would enjoy…

You didn’t have the faintest idea. His icy demeanor did a pretty good job of shutting you out and keeping you fully in the dark. He was so dry and rough around the edges. Also bitter. He was definitely bitter. Put all those things together and you got…

“What’s dry, has a rough texture, and also tastes bitter?” you asked the servant.

“I-I beg your pardon? That doesn’t sound like it would be all that palatable…”

He was probably right about that. The closest thing that fit your impression of Xeno was burnt vegetables, and you got the sense that he would probably kick you out of the palace if you brought something like that as a gift.

Just like that, you were back to square one, but you didn’t mind the challenge. It actually gave you the opportunity to find all kinds of new, tasty food—mostly for yourself. If your parents had given you a larger sum to spend, you might have bought a dish from just about every restaurant you stepped into.

“I’m still having trouble deciding,” you sighed. “No matter where I look, I can’t shake the feeling that he’s just going to hate whatever I bring…”

“That’s not true, my lady. He will love it, I’m sure.”

Everyone seemed so eager to say that. Obviously, they were just trying to be encouraging, but they also clearly didn’t know what Xeno was like. Perhaps you were being a bit too ambitious, trying to stumble upon some extravagant dish that you were hoping he’d never eaten before. Yeah. That was probably unrealistic. It might just be better to stick to something simple instead.

You looked towards the other end of the street, where clusters of people were coming out of a store carrying small boxes in their arms. It was a store you didn’t recognize, but based on all the customers that seemed to be going in and out the doors, it seemed like the business was thriving.

“Just a moment,” you said. “I’m going to go take a look.”

“Ah, Lady [Name]! Where should I wait—?”

The sound of his voice soon became lost in the crowd. You cut through the large group of people and stepped through the doors, curious to find out what had everyone so excited. The second you walked inside, you were greeted with a sweet aroma, the scent of baked bread, fresh fruit, and lots and lots of sugar.

It was a pastry store. The interior was decorated with soft, pastel colors that complimented the countless delicious treats on display. You could feel your mouth watering already. Everything looked so good. You could easily spend a whole day here sampling out all kinds of desserts, but you got the feeling that Xeno wouldn’t much care for any of this. It was probably a waste of time.

You were about to turn around and leave, but the woman behind the counter called out to you in a cheery voice.

“Welcome,” she smiled. “Can I help you find anything in particular?”

“Oh, um… I’m not sure. I don’t think I’m—”

“Ah!” she suddenly exclaimed. “You are… pardon me, but aren’t you Lady [Name]? I thought I recognized you from somewhere. Our shop once catered the desserts for a tea party hosted at your manor.”

You smiled and nodded, feeling a bit guilty that you didn’t recognize her at all. “Yes, I am. I’m sorry. I must not have recognized the name of the store. My mother organizes most of those events, so I didn't realize who you were. But it seems as if she made a good decision to hire you back then, just based on how popular your store is.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I only saw you the one time, in passing. And yes, we were a relatively small business back then, but we’ve since made a bit of a name for ourselves, I suppose. Oh, and I heard the news! You’re engaged to Prince Xeno now, are you not?”

“Y-Yes.”

“That’s amazing!” she beamed, clasping her hands together. “You have my congratulations. I hope the two of you are very happy together.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Oh, I know. To celebrate the occasion, how about I let you have some desserts on the house?”

“I couldn’t possibly,” you shook your head. “I very much appreciate the offer, but I wouldn’t want to put you out. I probably need to be on my way regardless. I’ve been looking for something to eat to bring the Prince, but I still have no clue what he’d enjoy. I should keep on searching.”

Her smile just got even wider. “Well, that’s perfect. It just so happens that Prince Xeno loves our strawberry shortcakes. Why don’t I send you off with a box of them?”

“He loves… strawberry shortcake?”

You couldn’t help but wonder if she was messing with you. Someone as cold and stuck-up as Xeno, liking something as fluffy as strawberry shortcake? While it was possible that he had a sweet tooth, the image was just so jarring that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around it.

“I’m sure it must seem out of character for him,” she chuckled. “But I can promise you that he really does enjoy them. He likely has all sort of talented chefs around the palace to whip up his favorite desserts for him, but every now and then we still get a bulk order to deliver to him. Especially for any large gatherings they hold; we always get rather busy around those times.”

“Well, you probably know better than I do,” you acknowledged. “I’ll take a few shortcakes, in that case.”

“Excellent! Like I said, they’re on the house.”

“No, no, I’ll pay.”

“Please, I insist.”

You tried to protest further, but she was already loading several pastries into a box for you. She carefully folded the edges in and patted everything in place, then handed it to you with a bright smile.

“Here you are. I promise you he’ll enjoy them.”

“Thank you very much,” you smiled appreciatively. “I was really at a loss as to what to bring over.”

“It’s my pleasure. With time, I’m sure you’ll discover all his preferences.” She then cleared her throat, suddenly looking a tad nervous. “Speaking of… have you been finding it difficult being around the Prince? You know, because of his condition…?”

“Condition?”

She must’ve realized she’d said too much, because she’d all but clamped her palms over her mouth. “I-I apologize!” she stammered out. “I’m not even sure what I was trying to say… please, ignore my rambling. I hope you enjoy your time together!”

You flashed her a skeptical look, but she probably wouldn’t have explained, even if you stayed around to pester her. You’d already spent quite a bit of time in town. If you didn’t hurry up and leave soon, you would end up being late, and you got the feeling Xeno would never let you live that down.

“Very well. Thank you again for the pastries. Have a nice day.”

Equipped with your box of strawberry shortcakes, you stepped outside, feeling a lot more confident than earlier. You had to push your way through the crowds again—it was exceptionally busy this time of day—and you traced your steps back to regroup with your servant.

Only to realize that he was nowhere to be found.

I thought he was going to wait? Perhaps I ran off too quickly.

You sighed. This complicated things somewhat. It wasn’t anything too major; you could just head back to where you’d left the carriage and you were sure they’d naturally make their way over as well. Walking with the large box in your arms was slightly awkward, and you really wished that one of the servants was here to help you. The midday sun was beating down much more vigorously than before, burning your cheeks and making you squint through the rays.

Momentarily blinded by the brightness, you accidentally walked straight into someone, nearly dropping the box to the ground.

“Shit!” you cursed out. “That was close…”

“Watch where you’re going, goddammit!”

The young man you’d just bumped into was glaring you down. He had pretty mint-green eyes framed by long lashes, and turquoise colored hair that cascaded down the sides of his face. He was also wearing a familiar white uniform—the official garb of Aeolia’s knights.

You pressed your lips together. “That’s rather rude. I apologize, but the sun had gotten in my eyes and I couldn’t quite see for a moment. There’s no need to yell at me. And why should I be the only one to watch where I’m going? You didn’t notice me either. My pastries might have gotten crushed.”

“Right, your pastries,” the man reiterated sarcastically. “That would have been a tragedy.”

“Well, seeing as these pastries are a gift for my fiancé, Prince Xeno, your statement is really not that much of an exaggeration.”

That sure got a reaction out of him. You were usually loath to play the “prince’s betrothed” card, but it did a pretty good job of shutting people up.

“Oh,” he said simply, his eyes slowly widening. “Oh. You are… the prince’s—”

“Future wife, yes.”

All of a sudden, he looked like a guilty puppy. “I-I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t realize who you were. Lady [Name], correct? Please forgive my rudeness. I’ve been known to get irritated a little too quickly…”

“It’s funny how your tone changed the second you knew who I was,” you snorted.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” he mumbled shamefully. “I was already in a bad mood to start, but that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have yelled at anyone like that, let alone you. Will you accept my apology?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit strange to ask for my forgiveness when you haven’t even introduced yourself?”

His cheeks darkened from embarrassment. “Ah… yes. My name is Keith. Keith Lybell. I apologize again for my rude reaction, Lady [Name].”

“It’s fine,” you chuckled. “I wasn’t really all that upset anyways. But I appreciate you owning up to your mistake.”

“Thank you for your understanding. Um, that box looks quite heavy,” he remarked. “Is there no one to help you carry it?”

“I got separated from my servants earlier. I’m heading to my carriage now, so that I can get to the palace in time for my meeting with the Prince.”

“I could carry it for you,” he offered. “And escort you to your carriage so you aren’t walking all alone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. It’s the least I could do. I am still a protector of the people, after all. This much is nothing.”

You, for one, couldn’t wait to let go of that bulky box, and you handed it over to Keith gratefully. Perhaps he really was only kissing up to you, but you appreciated the help. And maybe you’d just caught him in a bad mood. Knights were, for the most part, hardworking selfless people. They put their lives on the line for the greater good.  

Keith kept glancing over at you, a little unsure what to say. “If you don’t mind me asking… what is in this box?”

“Strawberry shortcake.”

“Eh?”

“Yes. Apparently the Prince is fond of it.”

“Huh.” He scrunched up his nose. “I can’t really picture that.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” you mused. “I personally assumed he hated anything and everything, just based on how he acted.”

“Is it okay for you to be saying those things?”

You flashed him a teasing look. “Why? Are you going to tell on me?”

“N-No,” he blushed. “Of course not.”

“Then we’re fine. Besides, if he ends up not liking these, that just means there’s more for me. Oh,” you blinked. “My carriage is right over there. You can hand me the box back now.”

Keith placed the box back in your hands, just in time for a familiar squeal to pierce through the air.

“My lady!” one of your servants panted as he ran over, looking absolutely traumatized. “I-I’m so sorry! You just ran off so quickly, I lost sight of you in the crowd. I tried following after you, but I wasn’t sure which store you’d gone into, and—and—”

“Relax,” you chuckled, patting his head. “I’m fine. This nice knight helped walk me over. Nothing happened.”

Keith quirked a brow. “I’m nice?”

“You aren’t?”

“Uh… maybe. No one’s ever called me that before.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” With the help of your servant, you stepped up into the carriage, placing the box of shortcakes on your lap. “Thank you, Keith,” you smiled. “And I’m sorry again for bumping into you. I hope I didn’t take up too much of your time.”

Keith looked like he wanted to say something, but the carriage door closed, and he clamped his lips shut, offering a timid wave instead.